The worst danger for an artist's work:
assimilation. And this is a country of
highly refined assimilation mechanisms.
To make like (how I hate that trait),
to leaven, make digestible, democratize,
ultimately strip of individuation.
Art is isolate. Its obduration is
unacceptable. At its deepest levels, art is
an atrribute of nothing else. It may not be
defused in attribution to. I would prefer
hatred, obscurity, misunderstaning. In fact
it is my right to be ignored, maltreated,

I am jealous of my own doubt.
To say noto everything, what a wonder!
To set in motion, contains its own stopping
point. I glare in at myself to start it all
turning again. I have often opened my doors
to find the small flame of my doubt my only
light. Sometimes I shelter it with the mass
of all my works. I cup it with my acceptance,
blow upon it with satisfaction. I am vitalized
by all it has killed.

What I want from the world is the freedom to
need what can't be given but must be taken.
I want to stay in motion. I want the first thing
to be the last, every time.

Clark Coolidge


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