Art, music, animation, video, snapshots of fleeting fragments of time, pieced together in a collage like fashion becomes a representation of dreams that seem to take our thoughts and create abstract narratives.
In this story I choose several subjects to interweave, my struggle for money and the predatory nature of debt based banking and usury and how it creates constant conflict with just about everything I (we) encounter in life. People are pretty much denied a place to exist, stand, or sleep without money. We have to rent every space we occupy even temporarily such as a store or a bar stool. If you aren't purchasing one is guilty of loitering.
Our mailbox becomes a dreadful place to visit. The police state grid perpetrating a legal shakedown at every turn. The minimum speed limit of how fast we are expected to go, (or earn) are numbers impossible to keep up with. Our very existence leaves us in the red and labels us as losers.
Desperation causes us to enter the end justifies the means philosophy even when we intellectually condemn it. We rationalize what we do for a living while justifying others engaging in services, practices, jobs and careers that are ludicrous in their defiance of true decency and harmony with some sort of natural order. In the end-- do people see a person's actions, skills, talents, and body of work or do they simply see the clothes they wear, the car they drive or the place they live? No need to answer that, the answer is we don't have the time to appreciate the true depth of a person-- for the system is demanding so much from us that everyone else's life is viewed in short hand. If you are to slow me down, borrow from me, fail to give as much as you take-- I just assume ignore your existence. Whatever your problems are-- swim harder-- your drowning is not my concern, my drowning is my concern. I am speaking of course of what the system demands and how it keeps us from being the generous charitable people most of us would like to be because the pressures divide us.
And yet it is this acceptance of this predatory system that allows the wolves to prey upon us.
My video series seeks to first establish the texture of a deam-like state, then comment on the struggle, illustrate the absurd effort of a person whose art should have value but does not and how an artist's desire to be an artist is an inconvenience to those who simply want to see the green.
The reptile brain is cold and simple. Stalk, kill and feast.
The mammalian brain though is tailor made to be prey, seeking comfort and security and following the herd. Watching as one of us falls into the vicious fangs of this economic predator system as we adjust our horror quickly to another channel. Dismissing the thin ice we all cross daily.
As an artist who had much to offer I expected success as a believer in the American dream. Only to find it is all about the secret hand shake. An honor among thieves compromise of conscience to be among the wolves and not the sheep.
One has the reptile brain and the other the go along to get along mimicry of the mammal.
Will the flock strike back in coordinated rebellion?
Yes, but only in a dream.