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The art of authenticity

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  The Struggle for Authenticity in Art I want to speak today about authenticity . And about what we quietly give up to be accepted. We’re told that contemporary political art values autonomy . That artists are free. That inquiry sits at the centre of practice. But autonomy, in reality, is often something we *perform*— not something we’re allowed to exercise. Freedom is celebrated rhetorically, while legitimacy is granted only when work conforms to approved languages , approved theories , approved causes . Autonomy isn’t denied outright. It’s curated. This system doesn’t fail artists by accident. It functions mechanically. It rewards work that aligns with predetermined frameworks and filters out work that doesn’t speak the sanctioned dialect. Many voices are excluded not because they lack skill or meaning, but because they refuse to translate their experience into institutionally legible language. I’m not saying all excluded work is good. I am saying much of it is never heard. And ...
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Vision 3 - A Psycho-Mythic Descent

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Situation - The Tempest’s Reflection JB, a spaceship pilot, has been placed into a cryo cocoon to revive and transform his life essence. Inside the cocoon, he experiences his mind as a "relentless tempest of clashing thoughts, swirling and churning, mirroring the furious chaos outside of the machine." JB also sees his older self trapped in the same transitory state. The Storm in my Looking Glass A cinematic close-up of JB’s face behind the curved glass of the cryo-cocoon. The glass reflects not the room but a "relentless tempest" of swirling dark clouds and lightning, symbolising his churning thoughts. In the storm's reflection, a ghostly older version of JB is visible, trapped and silent, mirroring the pilot's current state. Cryogenic Rejuvenation Chamber - Night This trapped specter is the true mirror of our pilot's current, suspended state: a mind caught between two ages, the man he was refusing to be silenced, terrified of the man he is about to beco...
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Vision 2 - The Unbearable Truth

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  The Situation - Red Alert JB , a middle-aged mail spaceship pilot . Starship piloting JB is held not by ropes, but by the cryo-unit's nanoweave swaddle —a tight, absolute embrace mimicking paranoiac wrappings. This material presses against him, preventing his shivering flesh from flying apart under the centrifugal force of his panic. He feels a cold burn and constant helplessness sinking in. His anxiety is a crimson klaxon , a "relentless tempest" of warring thoughts. He is mentally back in the cockpit, but the instruments scream in an alien language; every light and warning signifies impending failure. His pure instinct screams ABORT , yet there is no escape route. Confrontation Rising JB is shown the war of impulses tearing him apart—the "lunge and the retreat". His existence is reduced to the strained gasp: "I live for fucks sake, I don't know.” Full Assault a Violet Firestorm JB responds with explosive, automatic violence, his lungs burning from ...
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The art of the obscure and meaningless

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  The hand that holds the glamour Between the flick of a lighter and the curl of smoke lies a story told in two parts: the hand that holds the glamor, Between the flick of a lighter and the curl of smoke lies a story told in two parts: the hand that holds the glamor, and the eye that chooses to believe it. The art of the obscure and meaningless In the realm of modernist art , exemplified by Eddie's deliberate embrace of abstraction and mystery , artists have increasingly surrendered their authoritative power of intent to a veil of meaningless vagueness, compelling viewers to co-create meaning from fragmented suggestions rather than receiving a clear, directive vision. Her scalpel-wielded dissections—such as her perforated self-portraits or obscured war images—eschew explicit communication in favour of elusive hints, as she professed a desire to remain "mysterious" and avoid revelation, thereby shifting the burden of interpretation onto the audience in a pseudo-spiritual a...
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The art of monetising fear

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  The art of monetising fear Script Politicians have long mastered the art of monetising fear, transforming societal anxieties into powerful tools for garnering votes, donations, and loyalty. By amplifying threats, whether real or exaggerated, they create a sense of urgency that compels the public to rally behind them, funding campaigns and endorsing policies that promise protection. This strategy not only secures their power but also perpetuates a cycle where fear becomes a lucrative commodity, much like how alarmist narratives drive engagement and profits in broader discourse.  So why don't more contemporary artists leverage or expose this political platform, given that power and art have always been symbiotic?  Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art .  Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private...
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Vision I - The Violet Firestorm

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  Vision I - The Violet Firestorm Cryo Chamber — The Silent Scream Psychological isolation A lone cryo pod floating inside a dim spacecraft bay . Inside, a male space tourist is cocooned tightly in glowing nanofiber restraints , frozen mid-thrash.  JB's mouth is open in a scream that makes no sound. Cryogenic mist swirls like incense around him. Violet light leaks into the chamber from an unseen cosmic force , casting long shadows across the pod’s curved surface. The mood is mournful, ritualistic, and terrifyingly calm. Ultra-cinematic sci-fi , photorealistic detail , volumetric lighting , deep shadows. Full Assault — Violet Firestorm Explosive, internal chaos A surreal psychological vision: a male pilot encased in a glowing cocoon of nanoweave , thrashing violently as violet fire erupts around him. Flames are not literal fire but energy — psychic, electric, and cosmic — exploding from behind his eyes. The background collapses into a massive black-violet anomaly with swirl...
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Strapped in an Alien Cocoon

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  Breathless Strapped in an Alien Cocoon The air... where is the air? The room is sucking it out. It’s blue. It’s cold. It’s the color of drowning. No... no, no, no. Don't touch me! Get it off! The linen... it’s shrinking! It’s sewing my skin together! I can’t... I can’t expand my chest! WAKE UP! MOVE! DAMN IT, MOVE! My hands! They’ve cut off my hands! Why can’t I reach the glass?! SOMEBODY HELP ME! Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. It’s tight. It’s a snake. It’s crushing my ribs. Tastes like copper... tastes like blood. BREAK! SHATTER! Why is there no sound?! I’m screaming my throat raw but the silence is eating me alive! BK! KATCHA! No! Don’t sleep! The needle... the ice! It’s killing the pilot! If I close my eyes, I unspool! I fall apart! Stay awake, you coward! STAY AWAKE! Spinning. Everything is spinning. The floor is gone. The gravity is wrong. I’m falling up! I’m falling into the black hole! LIES! That’s not real! That’s a ghost! My mind is snapping! I’m looking a...
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The Spoodle Chronicles a jump to aurum

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The Spoodle Chronicles When a psychic spoodle and his captain stumble upon an ancient signal from the depths of uncharted space, they're pulled into an adventure that will test their bond across galaxies. Join Katcha and Captain Renna as they navigate treacherous hyperspace lanes, outwit cosmic smugglers, and discover that a wagging tail might just unlock the universe's greatest mysteries. Subscribe and read: Facebook subscribers : https://www.facebook.com/share/g/16JHjhd5Tr/  Patreon subscribers :  https://www.patreon.com/posts/ Deviant subscribers:   https://www.deviantart.com/jjfbbennett/art/The-Spoodle-Chronicles-1275870003
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