How convenient it is to have definitions for everything. How comforting too, to know, or seem to know the what-why-how behind most things that surround us or make us. To have an instruction manual for a do-it-yourself, or even a pure white line of social conventions to tow. But this is what the “usual” side is made of, of a coin the other side of which reads “different”.
To me, and particularly in art, “different” is a stimulus which challenges my brain’s synapses into re-thinking and re-visiting all definitions which I have either imbibed or invented before the prick, pinch or as most like to call it, the spark of novelty brushed against my soul. It is the beginning of not just love then, but of an unending relationship with that art form.
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