Friday, December 26, 2008

I'm currently in a state of physical distress brought on by a flu like virus that last night left me in agonies of feverish heat and spatial and auditory hallucination for the first time since I had chicken pox over a decade ago. Resting was difficult and compounded by Dali because Andrew Williams gave me Diary of a Genius as a Christmas present. It is about time I address the matter of Dali. My paintings are often compared to his, and I use similar techniques, not only because his book on painting was my guide but more importantly because, and this seems to be growing more true the more I learn about that man, I seem to think in exactly the same way and agree that efficient painting should be just that. Being naturally recalcitrant is an inherent and vital part of thinking like a surrealist because comparison using opposites is the essential ingredient of the surreal. As such I dislike being compared to Dali, as he does to me, and I seek to be different and seek out only those spaces that others vacate. That said, I agree with him on many points regarding art and understand absolutely his meaning on many matters, more than even his most devoted of critics (critics are more devoted than even ones closest friends). The emotion had gone from his works at some point in the 1940's and a quest to represent the deeper parts universe pictorially began, leading to fantastical looking works that baffled most people with their coldness and impressed some with their appearance but that is all. But I am no fan of Dali, I might agree on some points but seek to be different, better, avoid eccentricity of any form and be as normal and average as it is possible to be. I will learn only to avoid his lessons and be inspired only by the drips of technique and painting tips that tantalisingly litter his writings. I have my own things to forge. If I see any signpost at all I will know not to go that way.

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