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Now and again, I feel anxious about the elusiveness of artistic content in my work. I’ve read enough art theory and history by now to tick the formal boxes of how it is art, but it does not necessarily “feel” art. And yet, I don’t know if I could describe a distinct “art feeling” that would be objectively absent from my propositions.


Surprisingly, while reading Burden and Morris, I realised that the “artistic content” of many of their gestures had not necessarily been self-explanatory either. They simply followed through some ideas that accrued their enchanting artistic shimmer over time through rumours, exhibitions and fancy art book accounts.


In a way, art is an afterthought. Something rather random and subjective that gains its “obviousness” through the following discourse (or the preceding discourse, if it’s a variation on an earlier theme). It’s all based on why and how someone wants to discuss something as art. Or, as contemporary art philosopher ES has reiterated on several occasions lately, it’s not about the work; it’s about how one talks about the work… It turns out I can keep doing whatever I want or find myself able to; it does not really matter. Any occasional artiness will be talked into it later.


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ES: Words are magic! A means of turning one thing into another.


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Creative practice PhD project "Porosity of the Frame" by Justas Pipinis. Keywords: uncertainty, framing, sensemaking.

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