Newcall Gallery

Thursday, December 18, 2008

03-12-08 | NSFW

NSFW

NSFW is a sort of "reunion show" of a group of friends who shared a studio in rm404 of Achilles House in 2005. Like thousands of other art school graduates freshly-milled through the system each year, we sought out our independent art-school substitute; an idealized hub of relentless art-marking activity, a commune with like-minded friends in our artiste community. We staged collaborative efforts, presented group shows, some of us got drunk and had sex with each other, and sometimes we also made art, when we found the time.

If there is a shared proclivity amongst most, if not all artists, it is our limitless capacity to extensively bitch about our jobs. Whilst no one goes to art school un-warned about our limited money-making prospects after, my friend Marcus insists we all privately harbour delusions of grandeur, of the frenzied worship of our unique genius and its attendant rewards – and real life inevitably disappoints. We shriek at this monstrous routine that drains us of our true vocation; we are asked to do too little, to do too much, we are too bored! We are not realizing our full true potential! We are intelligent beings deprived of stimulus! We graduated top of our class!

But we grew up watching Winona Ryder in Reality Bites, where we learnt being a valedictorian couldn't even get you a job at McDonald's? Horrors! I'd be driven to compulsively shoplift at designer boutiques too. What to do but to commiserate at our various self-sympathies.

It is true, it turns out I am not the secret love-child of Aga Khan, and I took "Ne Travaillez Jamais" too literally, that I'll have bills to pay that I will not be spared the hours spent on mind numbing tasks, feeling as though your head might literally explode, that no one awards you an A+ for giving up your lunchtimes to go on art missions. All I can do is cry silently into my pillow while my cat coughs up furballs next to my face. But I will not be defeated! Like Lindsay Lohan, I, too, am "a fighter"! Oh what a marvellous brilliant career awaits me (if I could make art full-time)! What a cruel world! What cruelties inflicted upon our frail unflexed creatived bodies!

My pain is one-thousand fold x your average pain. You ordinary beings might suffer a sharp mid-life crisis, recession-induced suicide, you might have parents at their deathbeds but my art-making time is compromised, oh my art-making time so compromised it aches in my bones, my genius never shines; this is a greater tragedy than your meek minds could ever understand! So today, at work, the air-conditioning wasn't on and the whole floor was over-heated and we were all so dehydrated and we were all so hot we had to take off our cardigans even though all I had on underneath was a chiffon see-thru top and I kept having to drink water just to stay alive and people wouldn't stop asking me questions and I was so exhausted beyond belief. Oh god help me.