Weekly Summary: 22.7.2016 – 28.8.16
by Beauchamp Art
The primary activity this week involved assisting Henry with a film shoot for Red Bull studios in London. On my part, this mostly required carrying materials and helping to install the equipment for the recording. However, during time of the filming I was not required so wandered about das Capital, meandering fractally via the Barbican Centre and a few other landmarks, though I did not attend any exhibitions whilst on this patrol, due to the time restraints of the day and my depreciating enthusiasm for attending such activities, unless there are specific works that I wish to see, or for the social dynamic or the potentially of pay for my photography services.
Perhaps I should be making a more conciliatory effort to engage in the wider art environment, both in attending events and applying for opportunities, but for the time being these seem somewhat existential activities, or rather, they reinforce my own nihilistic sense of semi-self-imposed exile from the series fine art world. Mayhap when I have resolved the issue of my own motivation or lack thereof towards creative practice and my desire to be productive; to produce, then I may be more inclined towards other modes of engagement.
For the mean time, I shall continue with my miscellaneous activities: drawing, digital painting, odds-and-ends of photography, assistance and support where possible. And perhaps this is a role for which I am better suited; a self-styled second-class artistic-citizen in a pseudo-proletariat role supporting existing forms, modes, and hierarchies of the arts, failing to question, deconstruct or subvert these modalities, but rather occasionally regurgitating them in a form that may adopt an aesthetic of counter-culture but maintaining only the most minor semblance of resistance against an establishment that thrives on such apathy.
Either my ability to create an impact or response is minimal, or it is made to feel so by an effective internalising of external hierarchical structures, but such self-pity, piety and pathos may simply be the barking of dogma of an echo chamber, out of which I need to step, but must first identify and establish how to manoeuvre out of such a analgesic quagmire, to cease the safety of oblivious numbing to risk the exposure of exposure, to try perchance to fail. I must move beyond the comfort zone of such stasis and gamble with my own ego to attempt to attempt something bolder, brazen, and actually worth contemplation rather than resignation. And in the process, develop enough momentum to, at the very least, attempt an MA in a year’s time, which seems a reasonable and potentially obtainable goal beyond the gaol of apathy.