Some artists want to make a career of their art. It’s what they love, and so because the love it, they would like to make it a ‘living’ they can profit from. The trouble then, is competing with other artists after the same endeavor. Some artists will sell their very souls to be the ‘well-known’ so they can peddle their art at obscene prices.
Some artists create because they enjoy it, it’s a hobby. It’s something they do in private, their creations may never be seen by the general public. They often end up as gifts to friends and relatives because the gift of creation is considered more thoughtful than buying a gift from a retailer.
Some artists couldn’t give a rat’s ass if they are called artists. They have a strong compulsion to create in any medium at their disposal. It’s an undying passion, a compulsion that stems from the very essence of their being. What these ‘artists’ make, may become note-worthy among friends, relatives and voyeurs as they share their creations like a child birthed from the womb. Sometimes they sell them, sometimes they keep them for themselves. Either way, they just keep creating.
Some artists are hacks, they just emulate the creations of others because they need to make a little extra cash. In some circles its considered ‘flattering’ to have another Artists work re-created, in others these parasitic creatures are regarded as the most vile things on this earth. Especially if they are made to merely turn a profit.
Some artists are making socio-political statements with their art, its a form of aesthetic terrorism to act as a counter-culture. They are willing to bleed for their art, if it will make real world changes in the way people see things. It’s about altering the perception of ordinary objects to make them extraordinary. These activists are treated like the dregs of society because they are shouting from the roof-tops, and going against the grain.
Some artists, don’t even know they are artistic. They just make things and display them around their home. You’d never even know their art if you didn’t pay them a visit. They are called artists, but the label fits like a straight-jacket. Their idea of ‘artist’ stems from the inspiration of ‘well knowns’ that they could never hold a candle to. They are often art collectors and stare endlessly at the works of the most prolific creators in human history in awe and wonderment. They often believe they could never be as great as ‘they’.
Some artists tell the world that no one is an artist, because everyone is an artist. Any person who has a notion to doodle, paint, sculpt, sing, play an instrument, or write is an artist. Even if its shit. It’s all “Art is in the eye of the beholder!” Even though, this concept deals with Beauty. Lookism is the looming shadow, and those considered ‘of the beautiful’ are either treated with high regard, or blatant disregard when envy wants what it doesn’t have. The ugly are at best an oddity to gawk at, treated poorly and hugged less often. Ugly art, is otherized as ‘not art’.
What kind of artist are you? What the hell is art anyway?