A Distinct Lack Of Violence
Everywhere I look, every piece I inspect from the simplest still life to the most brazen installation all I see is violence. It’s in brush strokes and framing, color palettes and textures. Even the descriptions artists provide along with their work scream violence.
They’re not assaulting my sense nor are they not to my tastes. There’s just an element inherent to every work I encountered and it leaves me wondering - is it me. Is this perceived violence an aspect of me that’s asking, no begging and demanding for release. Is it something that I’ve show how trapped or surpressed.
I curate. I look, research and gather together artists and their work. I compose and inspire exhibits. I enable the experience of some of our generations greatest creators, but through it all weaves this thread, implied or otherwise, that there is something animalistic that needs sating.
Like a good person I’ve cut red meat. Most days I can do little more than get a salad on the go - such is life that I’m always putting out fires. But here at the end of the day, as I wash up for the night, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to punch the mirror, to watch it shatter, and to see the blood run down my broken face.
Today’s art is courtesy of Juli gm from Santiago de Cali, Colombia.