Dear MOCA: (Angrily) Are You As Full of Shit As You Seem?
In so many words...
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Dear M○C△,
You’re writing to counter a valid appraisal of the space as trite (at best): You lead with a bolded celebration of an ETF. Fucking cooked, washed, etc. Art pinned to capital isn’t art. Capital isn’t anarchic or liberating, by definition. Art, sometimes, is. You marry them, and then it’s an ouroboros that’s just two buttholes swallowing each other except it only happens once then it’s all dead.
Sincerely,
Don’t Worry About It
Dear Don’t Worry About It,
Your assaultive tone is exactly what this newsletter has been missing! The rest of ya’ll are too nice to me, I keep saying. This entire crypto art space functions best when it’s needled, pushed around, shouted at, humiliated a little; I am no different. And in your assaultive, needling comment, Don’t Worry About It, you’ve brought up some interesting topics I’d like to dig into. Those are, in order of least to greatest thematic relevance to me:
You’re writing to counter a valid appraisal of the space as trite (at best): You lead with a bolded celebration of an ETF. Fucking cooked, washed, etc.
And
Art pinned to capital isn’t art. Capital isn’t anarchic or liberating, by definition. Art, sometimes, is.
In responding to these points, I’m going to try to be magnanimous but also as honest as possible. And that begins with what I presume will be a perhaps unpopular admission:
I’ve never liked thinking about artistry in the kinds of high-and-mighty terms that others seem drawn to. I think making capital-A Art is absolutely wonderful, but not inherently better than anything else. And there are a few reasons for that.
The first is that, in my decade-plus of writing weird esoteric fiction every day (which must qualify as making capital-A Art; and since nobody ever really sees or reads these pieces, and because I’ve long since realistically given up on making money, I think it also qualifies as making art solely for art’s sake), I continually arrive at an understanding that creating art is as much a scientific, sometimes laborious, often pragmatic endeavor as it is something spiritually enriching or freeing. I don’t really feel very freed by my *extremely powerful* compulsion to create art. It is something which feeds my soul and nurtures me, yes, and I am compelled to do so by forces greater than my will, but it is also something I am chained to; there is joy in it, of course, but I am in thrall to the muse, and she is a demanding lordess. I prostrate myself before her, hoping she will shower me with kisses today instead of lashes. But there is no way, on any given day, to know…
I think often of what Charles Bukowski wrote in his posthumously-published poem (which I’ve shortened slightly for brevity) “so you want to be a writer?” (2003):
“if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it[…]
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else[…]don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.there is no other way.
and there never was.”
Part of me thinks Mr. Bukowski is totally full of shit and totally self-important. But he has a point: If art does not come bursting out of you constantly, you won’t really ever be able to do this thing. Not because you’re incapable or talentless, but because you will give up on it, or it will eat you, or you will make the very wise, very understandable decision to bow out of this thing which feasts daily on your flesh.
I read this poem as saying, basically: Art will burn you alive, so you better really like the feeling of flames on your face.
We don’t choose what comes roaring out of us (or how powerfully it does so). And that is both a beautiful blessing and a cursed, constant challenge. Nothing, after all, is completely pure. The thing that is one’s salvation is also that alone which can drive one to lunacy. Romantic relationships, religion, and patriotism are a few other demonstrations of that principle.
Another thing I see way too often is folks who do creative work looking down —even unconsciously— on those who don’t. Creating art is perceived, both in and outside of artistic circles, as some kind of higher calling which is nobler than, more important than, and separate from the claw-grinding rat race amidst which all others toil.
And I frankly find that to be bullshit. I exist in a circle of friends and family predominantly populated by business-people, and I have learned that creativity, free-expression, and spiritual fulfillment are things you bring to your work, any work; the work itself is merely a by-product.
In other words, it’s not about what comes roaring out of you, it’s that something is roaring at all. Whatever it is, it’s art.
I don’t think it’s breaking new ground to assert that all things can be elevated to the level of artistry. Subway calls their employees “Sandwich Artists.” Believing that to be an inherent falsehood is, to me, an elitist opinion. Maybe you think you can thrust yourself into any group and gauge the artists from the grunts, but that’d be impossible. You can’t see souls, after all.
All of which is to say that when you suggest that my celebrating an ETF approval is cooked/washed, I inherently disagree. I think we have to cease walking around, bent backwards at the waist, our heads as close to our asses as possible because we think our farts smell like flowers. You want to have an art movement? You want to create something more connective and impactful than just sitting alone in your house as I do night after night, day after day, writing prolonged histories of fake worlds that no other living being may ever conceivably get to walk through with you?
Then sales are going to be a part of it.
Find me an exception, please. I hope you do, it’ll inspire me. But crypto art is downstream of crypto, which is money. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I’m also practical about what it means that a Bitcoin ETF has been approved. It means the possibility of more sales for more people in more places, thus a further extension of artistry anywhere by anyone. Isn’t that a worthy goal? You might respond by saying that the resultant art will be even more trite and cloying and uninteresting, which, sure, you get to believe what you want about everything, but I say “fuck off” to anyone arrogant enough to suggest that their beliefs legitimately discern good art from bad art. Have your perception, have your preference, but don’t dare denigrate an entire art movement because it’s evolved in a direction you don’t prefer.
I’m so tired of all that judgment.
I’m tired of it when it comes from snooty academic circles.
I’m tired of it when Jerry Saltz does it on Twitter.
I’m tired of self-righteous outrage from folks who fancy themselves “real artists.”
Let the people create. By solipsistically confining art within a good-or-bad dichotomy, you strip it of what it is, what it could be, all the context you and I and everyone remain by nature unaware of.
Sales matter. Money matters. And much money moving downstream is a potent potential net good for individual artists, their lives, and their ability to create more freely. Maybe that’s the salve to folks mimicking higher-selling artists. Maybe it’s the salve to consolidation. More moreness.
Which brings me to your second point. “Art pinned to capital isn’t art. Capital isn’t anarchic or liberating, by definition. Art, sometimes, is.”
I counter this simply: All art is tied to capital. As soon as it is conceived, let alone labored into the world, it is tied to capital. And that’s because we ourselves, being alive on this planet, are tied to capital. Nothing we create can escape our environment. Even subversion of the thing is still attached to the thing. Whether we were a society that bartered, traded, gifted, or self-sustained, instead of one which buys and sells, the things we think up and express ourselves with would be reflections of our reality.
Here’s a thought experiment: As per Science.org, “Humans can process three channels of colour (red, green and blue), while mantis shrimps perceive the world through 12 channels of colour, and can detect UV (ultra violet) and polarised light, aspects of light humans can’t access with the naked eye.”
Let’s attempt to see as the mantis shrimp sees: Try to imagine a color you’ve never seen before.
I’ll wait.
And wait.
But not too long because pretty quickly you’ll realize, as I have come to realize, that it’s impossible.
We cannot invent experiences to which we are unaware, ipso facto, we can only invent experiences from which we are aware. Capital is a part of our world, as fundamental as breathing oxygen. Even the Unabomber had to buy stamps.
But capital is not any one inherent thing. As it’s most commonly used in the marketplace, sure, it’s hardly disruptive or anarchic, but that’s not a necessity. Is capital deployed to blow up an oil pipeline not anarchic or disruptive? Is charity not compassionate, and does that not mean that capital has the potential to be compassionate too? A thing is not anything until it is used. Capital is an empty vessel for action, which means it contains as many varied spirits as we imbue into it. Che Guevara was motivated by capital. So was Harriet Tubman. So are you and me and every single thing we make, in the light or the shadows both.
I agree that art is often liberating in a way capital isn’t, but that comes from how we perceive these things, more than the things themselves.
And believe me, I’m with you on feeling outraged. I’m with you on the urge to judge. I’m with you on being tired by boring art. I come across as much more pious in these newsletters than I am in reality, but that’s the benefit of revision, documentation, meditation on an idea. In hair-trigger truth, I often feel aligned with you on all the things you said, and I don’t want to come across as holier-than-thou. I’m writing as the being I want to be, not necessarily as the being I am.
I don’t chagrin you for anything you’re feeling, I just want you to see that there’s another way.
I’d love to very simply and single-mindedly celebrate art while denigrating all other things, but I just don’t feel comfortable with something so reductive. There’s more than one way to skin a cat, and every cat’s skin is different. The fact remains, however, that there are cats, each cat has skin, and we can’t unmarry that from the task at hand.
Would that art were unmarried from capital, but it isn’t. We can rage against that fact, and many have, and many more will, or we can do something far more effective: Create artistic capital. Bend capital to our whims. Imbue it with something.
And on that front, I am all ears for any ideas you may have.
Thanks for writing. I hope you do so again real soon.
- Your Friendly Neighborhood Digital Art Museum,
M○C△