The Big Fight

Sisyphus by Titian.

“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.” — Albert Camus, Writer

It’s how you fight.

Think of Sisyphus (who was punished by the gods above for his cunning and intelligence). If you were bound to a life of pushing a boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down, and that that same action is to be repeated ad nauseum, how shall you respond? With anger? With submission or despair? Such reactions won’t get you anywhere. Life can seem awfully pointless and futile, even absurd at times, and if we’re absolutely honest with ourselves, we know that we really have no idea as to why we’re here or even if there’s any meaning to our lives at all. Modern life in particular seems to mirror the horror of Sisyphus’ plight; we stress, rush, and toil away while suffering such emotions as envy, anger, bitterness, loss and pain, repeating that cycle until we die. Meanwhile, postive feelings such of joy, love and understanding seem scarce and fleeting. None of it makes much sense.

But, perhaps there’s another way to look at things, another way to deal with the apparent irrationality of it all. Maybe you can build strength in pushing that boulder, even come to enjoy the building of skill, control and discipline necessary to perfom such a task. Perhaps you’re strong enough now to stop in middle of that hill and make a little carving or drawing on it? (i.e. create something beautiful along the way) Maybe you get to the hill’s apex and, at that moment of suspended gravity, take the time to enjoy the glorious 360 degree view of nature? And what if, when the boulder begins to recede you choose to roll it down like a happy child would making a game of it? Perspective matters. There are innumberable ways to live out nearly any scenario. Your attention, action and attitude are yours to choose. What else could you do? Here are some ideas:

“Art is the exclusion of the unnecessary.” — Karl Andre, Sculptor

Get rid of things that don’t matter.

That’s the first thing I’d do. Art and life are about making choices. And when you’ve figured out what’s most important, you almost won’t have to. Why? Because any other option would be unacceptable. Personally, I make art almost everyday and I’m gonna keep making art till the end of my days and nothing is gonna stop me from doing so. I believe anyone else can do the same if they wish. So free yourself to do the work you must do for, as Gandhi once said, “action expresses priorities.” This is even true of relationships. Forget those who disrespect you or make you their option. Find out who are saviours and who are sabateurs. Furthermore, try to live a simpler life. Be watchful of diversions, of which are there many. Do away with things, both material or immaterial (such as status), that serve as no more than burdens. You’ll be surprised by how little you actually need to be happy.

“Nature never rushes, yet everything is accomplished.”— Lao Tzu, Philosopher

Don’t rush.

You won’t get there any faster. Where are you going anyways? Aiming for efficiency is stupid. You’ll just be more tired, frustrated and lost. The more you hurry, the more mistake prone you’ll become. Being anxious and going full speed all the time is a bad combination. Who cares what your bosses or superiors say (it’s all just regurgitated noise from an over-commoditized market driven economy). Lose the conditioned response of trying to be always productive. As long as you do good work, it’ll all work out for the better. Besides, the judgement of others don’t matter. Think of your health — what diseases could be brewing in your cells under such relentless pressure or strain? At the end of the day, it’s about doing the right things the right way. You’re the only one who has to live with what you’ve done and how you live.

“An artist should never do what people expect of him.” — Picasso, Artist.

Surprise us.

Don’t always do what the world wants. It’s truly the most dangerous thing. Even if you have to do a job you don’t like to survive, find ways to sneak in the personal. Explore the unusual. It’s ok to be strange (it took me a long time to be able to accept or understand this). Besides, strange things can be, and often sometimes are, the most very beautiful. So look outside of the box of your normal routines, look to different influences. Be wary of the internet and its algorithms that promote sameness. If things look too familiar, comfortable or convenient that’s a sign to you that you should watchout.

“If the artist cannot find the way, then the way cannot be found.” — Terence McKenna, Ethnobotanist/Writer

Know you have a duty to uphold.

You have a destiny. Again, it’s your choice to live up to it or not. We’ve all been given a talent, a freebee so to speak, something you’re naturally attracted to doing and something you know you’re pretty good at it even to start with. It doesn’t mean you don’t have to put in the work. Quite the contrary; you’re gonna have to work harder than every other “normal” person who’s not a creative. But don’t be afraid. Know that there are others like you, look to them for guidance both the living and the dead (whose timeless art keeps them alive). You’re not alone. In fact, you’re never alone. These are your comrads in arms. They’re paving or have paved the way. Don’t let them down. There isn’t a day that I don’t look to my inspirations, they are my creative and philosophical soulmates.

A final word

In this big fight to be free (and moral, creative, just and human) it doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to fail. To struggle, to fall, to err is to be human. It’s ok, too, to be sad, angry, tired, anxious and depressed. At times it’s both necessary and appropriate. But we don’t fight the fights that we can win, we fight the ones worth fighting. Like Camus said so eloquently, you must rebelliously act and move on regardless. Non-conformity is the very essence of courage. We artists are self-selected. We’re both innovative and resourceful. Hence, we’re naturally equipped to deal with the absurd. And we’re stubborn. Yes, stubborn. We can always forcibly supply the necessary existential sense and meaning when there looks to be none.

“I’m Superman” — one of the greatest and most noble finales in film history. From Brad Bird’s extraordinary animated tale, The Iron Giant.

The Dilemma

Hal 9000, the A.I. agent from Stanley Kubrick’s cinematic masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey.

The dilemma we face.

Let’s start with the dilemma I’m having with this very website. For months I’ve pondered whether to continue writing on this blog. During my long hiatus from posting I had contemplated shutting it down. Search engines are algorithmically designed to promote sites that generate clicks and money thus making sites like mine nearly invisible if not irrelevant. And my blog is admittedly strange: it has no political agenda, generates no money, asks for no money and contains neither advertisements nor lists any products for sale. And I’ve never suggested or promoted programs that promises to make you rich or amazing in mere weeks. There’s none of that b.s. I don’t even have a Patreon account. This arena was never about profit or popularity. It was always a gift, a place to share ideas and the beautiful work of artists.

What made me question the time and resources to keep this blog going was because of the seemingly unstoppable and disturbing trend of society, namely, the dominance of social media blurbs and clickbait — especially short form videos — that seems to have cornered the market of attention for most people most of the time, the worldover. Do any of us still bother to actually read, listen or wonder about things anymore? Is pondering about the creative life still desirable or even feasible in our current state of society, one that’s normalized transactional behaviour in all our interactions, and one that looks more and more like a rebirth of near feudal traditions of authoritarian dominance, racial/classist/sexist division, national conflict, limited economic mobility and now, with the advent of Artificial Intelligence, a possibly dystopian technological future?

“Action expresses priorities.” — Mahatma Gandhi, Social Activist

It’s not surprising that our ability to pay attention is shrinking. We all feel tired. I feel it myself. Trying to survive and keep up with current events is a hefty task and what’s often said about politics — that you may not be interested in politics but politics is definitely interested in you — applies to the corporate-technological developments we’re now witnessing. However, I think that in times like this, I believe it’s more important than ever to keep our wits, to hold on to our moral compass and to stay sane. It’s the only option. Rushing towards success won’t help. Neither will complaints nor panic. Fact is, we have to face reality no matter how confusing or frightening it may seem; there’s no longer any way to escape the arrival of machine intelligence. It’s not only here to stay but expanding at an alarming rate (as of this writing A.I.’s technical capabilities are doubling every 5-6 months). Soon, almost all work that is language based — art, music, writing, mathematics, science, finance, law, medicine, etcetera will be heavily affected. And, once robotics catches up with computing A.I. via simulated reinforcement training — where virtual environments are being used to teach physical machines to learn a task in 2 hours what normally would take a human 10 years — large swathes of blue collar physical work will also be significantly impacted. The way we live will change so drastically and so quickly that most of us will not be ready. And yet, the more frightful thing is the great likelihood that many of us will meekly conform to whatever the new reality will be even if that reality could have each of us becoming less attentive, less intelligent, less capable, and therefore less free.

“As a man is, so he sees.” — William Blake, Poet

You are what you do.

The point I’m getting at is this: we mustn’t lose our ability to do things. What defines us as humans, what makes us so adaptable is also what makes our lives joyful and meaningful. And this is the act of creating, of making and doing things with our hands. It has never become more important that we keep doing so. As the world becomes more and more automated, the temptation will be to transition/outsource most of our physical efforts, and soon, most of our thinking as well, to machines. This is incredibly dangerous. We all know that once we stop doing something we also lose our ability to do it. I know this personally. When I stopped doing handstands, I began to lose the strength and balance required to perform the feat. When I overused GPS systems, I could no longer remember directions or identify landmarks. Why is this? Well, the coordinating of our body parts — scanning with our eyes, turning our heads, the maneouvering of limbs — forms a chain of unifying commands and imprints onto our entire being as knowledge or more descriptively “know-how.”

“The hand is the window on to the mind.” — Yuhani Pallasma, Architect

It’s why artists must draw and writers must write. A student recently said to me: “I listened to you and thought I understood everything you said about drawing in our class (in this case, a lecture on anatomy) but when I got back to my desk to actually draw I realized I didn’t know how to do it, I didn’t understand it.” I told her that’s because you actually have to draw, and draw a lot, before you can even begin to understand it. The doing and re-doing — i.e. the reinforcement of knowledge in applied action — is more important than the intellectual information itself.

“I think seeing and drawing are the same act.” — Katsuya Terada, Illustrator

Use it or you’ll forget it.

In high end restaurants, chefs with the finest palettes (commonly referred to as sense of smell) are the most skilled and practiced cooks in the kitchen. The same concept applies to visual artists. While some of you might argue that you already have a “good eye” you, too, will lose your visionary ability soon after you stop using your hands. The physical exercise of making marks such as drawing, writing, carving, or strumming an instrument that help us connect our minds with reality also aids in the retention of those skills. Unlike machine intelligence, we can’t learn things virturally just using our minds — there is no Matrix moment of being plugged into a machine and saying “I know kung fu” — at least not yet. Physical practice is a constant necessity for learning and innovation. Creativity, which is so complex that it can’t be formulated, doesn’t come from where people think it does or is even what most people think it is; it isn’t mere access to information or the concocting of some clever fusion of pre-established ideas. It comes out of the act of play. The physical messing around with things is a paramount foundation of exploration and is essential for both discovery and developing true strength of mind. You think A.I. will discover for you? Would you really want it to? It’s so easy to forget why we chose to become artists in the first place: the act of doing art is both useful and fun. Being a hack sucks.

The amazing ink drawings by Illustrator Katsuya Terada (who draws all the time) demonstrate the power of skill, imagination and physical practice.

In coming back to the survival of this blog, I realized long form content, content that insists on your paying attention and to ponder what’s being written, strengthens the mind, and by default, strengthens your very person. Hence, I’m gonna keep the blog going, at least for now. I won’t transition over to Youtube commentary or any of other platform that makes me just another influencer trying to make a buck. I abhore advertising and propaganda. And I’m not going to use A.I. to write my articles (despite being prompted to do so). I want to preserve some sense of the manual way of doing things while I still can. I still believe it’s good to actually write and read, to spend slow contemplative time on things, to learn patience and to test the boundaries of our personal commitment. What does it say about you when you can’t even spend a few minutes to read a few paragraphs without wandering off towards easy clickbait or some other inconsequential habit? I understand this precisely because I, too, am vulnerable. The noise out there, with the volume and speed at which it comes at you, destroys your sense of agency. It offends personal authenticity. However, you have a choice to allow that to happen or not. It ain’t easy but it also doesn’t have to be complicated.

But what about trying to “get ahead of the A.I. transition” you may ask? Well, the technology is moving too fast. Look at what’s happening to coders who were supposed to hold the job of the future. I hate chasing trends and the future has never become more unpredictable. Anyone claiming to know what’s exactly coming down the line is either delusional or an outright liar. Plus, nature has taught us that when you chase things, they run faster and further away from you. And in this scenario, there’s only a limited chance you’ll capitalize on the so-called “new opportunities” in the diminishing interval of time before super intelligent and probably soon to be autonomous machines alter the world completely. (This may or may not be a bad thing but we’ll save that for a future discussion.) And finally, yet most importantly, I want to say to you: don’t be scared. Because I’m not. I simply refuse to live in fear no matter what the future may hold. I hope you can do the same.

“You must be a light to yourself.” — J. Krishnamurti, Philosopher/Teacher