Wednesday, April 29, 2009
It’s practically impossible for me to make a line, a brushstroke, to put together an installation, without immediately evaluating it. I feel tremendous virtuosity pressure. There’s a loud judge in my head and her verdict is that it’s not done well. And she's right.
I wouldn’t ever say that skill kills. Of course it doesn’t. And nothing is more false than faux naiveté. But, I wish I could just make it shit and not worry about it.
Besides, what I’m looking for in the end isn’t skill at all. It’s another quality. I’ve always called it sincere – I’ve also heard it called honesty. Both are not to be confused with earnest, of course, which is a quality that is entirely overly self-important.
The shoe-i-ness of the shoe, as a colleague of mine recently wrote me.