Mandy Bites on Art

Mar 18

🧮

Art to the exclusion of everything else.
Every piece is a portal.
Your life is art unfolding.
The mess is part of the art.
The actual art is just you being you, regardless of the piece.
Art is deeply personal and completely impersonal.
Art is never about the audience.
No pleasure in the process? No pleasure in the outcome. Pleasure in the process? The outcome becomes irrelevant.
I don’t create. I stay out of the way. IT is created through me.
It’s easy to sell shit to those who don’t trust themselves. It’s delicious selling art to those who actually do.
You create your art. People enter it as they wish. They take whatever they need. But the creation was for you.
Who cares if no one likes it? Who cares if no one gets it? Is it true? Is it you? That’s enough.
If you care about the outcome, you can’t create real art.
I am an artist before his lover. I am mine before I am his.
I always do what I am told to do. And that’s the art I make.
I’m so in love with my body of work.
I know I should be a functioning adult, but I’d rather be with my art.
Turning my life into art since way back when.
my being writes ahead of my life / love letters from me to me
i’d rather the art he inspires / than his body next to mine
he is my creation / like every other thing / a treasure i gift myself / as i fall deeper into me
create / extract / curate
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Here to destroy and be destroyed.

Mandy Bites on Consciousness