Now You Know A Little Something About Me

Some people go to church. Some people go to drugs. I go to art museums. Like I’m sure the former believe about their vices, I believe the same about mine. Art is the most important thing in the universe, ever. This little piece isn’t about explaining why. If you don’t understand why it’s important, or don’t think it’s important, quite frankly, with all due respect, I don’t care right now. You’re wrong. You live in darkness. If you don’t understand what is great triumphing over what is mediocre, love triumphing over fear, what our gut tells us from the beginning triumphing over our second thoughts and hesitations, then you don’t understand. Sorry. But like I said, this isn’t what this is about. I go to art museums because it reaffirms my life, and all of the choices that life entails. I see the end products of individuals who took the time and the effort, not out of mere survival, not for some immediately practical end, but in the boldest defiance of it. To create something that is a nominee for eternity. To create something that compels us to that greatest of Sisyphean tasks humanity has ever known, to try and make something last forever. It’s impossible, impractical, foolhardy, irresponsible, and it is the saving grace of humanity. I will never take for granted that I live in a culture that creates giant beautiful cathedrals to showcase these attempts at the impossible, where they are cared for, exhibited and discussed. And that’s why I go. Today, at MOCA, in my home of Los Angeles, I briefly reacquainted myself with some of those attempts that I had seen many times before. Sometimes I saw them alone. Sometimes I was with others. I still feel lucky, I still feel in awe. I want to make a stroke like Kline. I want images to flow through me like Rauschenberg. I have a little overly-optimistic thing I like to say when I want to seem intelligent and cute at the same time that relates to what I’m talking about. I tell people that there’s a finite amount of matter in the universe, and all art is made from this matter, so, really we’re slowly converting the entire universe into art. And what do we do with great art? We take care of it, preserve it, and try to make it last forever. Even though we really can’t. If everything got turned into art, that’s how we’d treat everything. Like maybe were supposed to. Isn’t that nice?