The candle

The other night I left a candle burn on top of a canvas untill it melted leaving two spots of wax that resembled a certain figure, yet were abstract and undefined. After looking at them for a while I realized one of them looked like a man, three piece suit and top hat. It was then that I understood for the first time why Miró's or Kandinsky's work was considered art. The vague images and feelings that watching a stain, dot or series of undefined figures brought to their mind that whole part of our lives that lies in the subcosious, and needs that spot of wax or paint in order to come up and make us remember of a certain moment or feeling. Art expresses our reality, but most of our reality is not on top of our minds for us to undesrtand and portray, we need to live art in order to go back to the unknown that's on the very back of our minds and won't be brought to the present unless we are once again brought back to earth by a certain artwork (or stain, or dot). I once again stared amazed at the man only to discover the huge cello that the other spot resembled, and the hole between them that the end of the candle had burnt through the canvas. I painted on both stains and the hole, and the tango player that was torn appart from his music by a hole dripping blood is now understandable to anyone looking at my picture. Bringing back feelings and memories of watchers through someone's own interpretation is not an artist's job. It is his obligation because that's what he was born for.

Construction splatters and unique languages

Art has become so accesible. So mundane sometimes it takes a splattered canvas and a well payed gallery for someone to be considered an artist. Vito Acconci would try to convey his feeling so strongly that even brushes and canvases were not artistic enough tools. He would bite himself in the 70s to create a printed masterwork that would portray his true suffering and would require a real pain to be able to be produced. 39 years later anyone who can buy the paint and has the time to splatter a bit around is an "abstract-expressionist from Pollock's current and point of view". May I inquire where is the artistic trait? What makes it different than a splatter a construction worker accidentally made on the sidewalk. Are all construction workers then artists?

Paintings and artworks are somehow different... One is an encryption of a self. An actual sumart of a day, a week, a second or a life. A journal written in a language only an expert eye would understand (And sometimes not even the actual author). The other one is a functional item. A decor purposed object. A non trascendental attempt at money.

Art is satisfaction.

Art is life.

Art is everywhere.

Artist is anyone, who intends to be it. And who believes he is one.