| OCR Text |
Show The point of sharing the experience of finishing a program that is dependent upon your ability to do something at the same time that it is being threatened, in a very physical way, is not to exploit the sympathy of the reader or to create another tragedy in this narrative. The point is that the acute awareness of my limitations, physical and otherwise, has come at a time when a philosophical questioning of self, and identity, has been the very reason I am writing, and painting. The point of sharing this is to show, I suppose, that a philosophical question that collides with reality, is inconvenient, and scary, unorganized, and poorly timed. It is also just life, which is adaptive, and rewarding, and we learn and unlearn as we go. So, what do I do? I paint. I pain. I paint some more. What will I do when I can't paint anymore? I don't think it will come to that, but should it, I will always make something, somehow. We adapt, we innovate, we change. I have faith that within the Art Universe I'll figure something out. Unlearn, relearn, you know? 54 |
