Where’s the art in Artown?

We attached manifestos to the Artown sheep because we were tired of being shown indulgent garbage. We were, once again, being force-fed lawn trimmings and informed it was chocolate cake.

Perhaps we should be used to this. People are becoming very placid and sluggish in their reactions to being duped. Inch by inch, our intellects are being sponged away by smiling committees and opportunists who count on our laziness and inattention. They called it “art.” “Art” is a term used far too freely and blindly. In books on the subjects of furniture placement to back rubs you can find The Art of‘s.

These things are not art. Art is a word that describes an altered state. This altered state was, in former days, recognized as the bridge between the divine and man.

It was not an expression. It was the result of what we would call an art form, like a statue or music, and its effect on an observer. It was the mix of the statue and the person, not a person “viewing” or “critiquing” or “appreciating,” or any other heavily quoted term used to describe looking. It was a third thing, neither the creation nor the observer. It was magic.

With art in its misuse today, the art of this editorial could be a study in say, the “inkification of the contextual words and dialectics of my paperial manifestations.” Looks like an impressive statement, but please don’t agree with it, because it means nothing.

When I, as part of Elias Artista, first contacted the art community, I received little to no response. Although we heard they had read the manifestos, we heard nothing from them. They offered no explanation for how such stupidity could be connected with art, no apologies for insulting us by assuming we are unintelligent, no strong and righteous defense of what they felt was good. It just slipped by. Art sheep were just left to be “kinda cool” or cute or whimsical or kitschy or some other condescending term. We are not children; we need food for our minds, not baby talk.

I am an artist, I want to make and see art. The real thing; I can emote and express on my own. Can you transform me? If not, stop calling yourselves artists. [Artown Executive Director] Karen Craig mentioned there has never been pure art. She is mistaken. If I made it yesterday, it exists, but the long line of ART has been pure.

I am tired of being informed that a random assemblage is art because someone can sell it, or connect it to a tradition, or quantify its value with dollars or suggest all thoughts have been done. I am tired of resignation and apologies, those who suggest, “Yes, it is dung, but at least they are making something.” I have heard this too many times.

I want art. You apologists, art committees, imposter (temporary) artists and expressers, you can have what’s made. Too many people pander to and encourage these amateur, shallow committees and bad artists.

Please, I insist, when you see what is bad, even if your would-be masters forbid you tacitly, say, "You are not an artist, and I am not a fool! Take that away!"