What is the meaning of art to me?

When I approach a piece or when I am approaching a drawing session, I go into it with the wonder and curiosity of a child or an infant; I leave the retrospective knowledge out. I approach it with energy, with the wonder of being born again, and with the hyper-fixation of the birth that will flow through me.

I look at the variables of its existence in this vicinity. Why has it found me, or why have I found it? Why does the love between the medium that has chosen me now flow through my veins and into a piece of paper—or for that matter, anywhere else?

I leave all the "known" outside. If I am running the session, I make sure I have a long conversation with the model, regardless of their gender. I do not follow any rules or any known formulas. I do not force anything; I let it be. I want to understand, the feel, or be able to gauge the flow of exchange between us. It is the same approach I have, to either view a piece of art or create it. It is usually priceless to me; it is a wonder, it is the tree of life, it is being thrown into the deep end—drawing, dying, and being born again and again, in different vessels or different beings. I approach art as a connection to all the unknowns and all that I have experienced so far when it comes to my existence on this planet.

I understand that for quite a few of you, this might come off as fluff—so be it. This is what I am, and this is what I do, usually subconsciously. I am not going to look at the techniques, or how great a brushstroke was, or what the persona of this artist is, or how their image is presented to the world; all that is nonsense to me. I want to understand how it makes me feel, how my gut responds to it, how I remember it, and why I went towards it in the first place.

It is the same when I meet people: I sense their energies before their words. To me, words are options, as they can always be redefined and repopulated again and again, according to the situation, environment, or circumstance. Most people are walking around wearing a mask; I can pick it up faster than they can blink. I understand the reasons behind it—usually, it is based on survival, then it is based on the systems we are in, and then it is based on a fear of change or the unknown. All are reasons that are correct and, again, false; it is also who that person is or what that art piece is trying to convey.

I do not go around judging or carrying a moral compass in any shape or form. To me, feelings are more important than any knowledge I possess, as I know there is information out there, or there is the unknown, which I cannot even begin to fathom. So, I would rather dive deep into the abyss and let it swallow me, in spite of my fears, in spite of my human existence, and in spite of my resistance to change at times. I do not let any of that hold me back. I would rather reinvent myself a billion times than look at a piece of art or create it from the same eyes of "good and bad" or "right or wrong." Those factors are of no consequence to me. I apply the same principles in my relationships to the world, to my friends, and the rest.

I think when it comes to art, the possibilities are endless. It is an expression everyone creates from the inside out—from their own wonders, from the fact of how they have a sense of the world, how they would be found or be lost or escape, how they would go about exploring emotions, or how they would go into the subjection of their own existence, their loss and pain, or their existential crisis. Or how they would compare themselves to the world, which should not exist in the first place; the only comparison one should make is with oneself, not with anyone else.

For me, "as above, so below"—or in that format, I suppose. I believe, or I know, everything is connected. I have had experiences where I was neither in the room nor in known time; I was in a place where time, gravity, matter, and energies were all one. You must think I was on drugs—I do not do drugs. I was in a hot yoga studio when this occurred, and that is where I ended up. I could pass through energies and feel all of it; the forms changed, the movement differed, thought or intellect did not exist, sex did not exist—everything was fluid, everything was energy. I cannot describe the feeling in words, even though I have a gift of the gab and even though I am curious by nature; I have no words for those feelings. That is the same meaning art holds for me: it is what I am, who I am, and how I exist.

For me, art and life are not absolutes; they are just another form of existence and choice. Absolutes are not for me, and I am not for absolutes. Absolutes are about fear, and that leads to projections and control; that is an ego projection and the capacity to not let go into the wonder, but wonder about why letting go is not the absolute.

To finish this article, all the labels that the art world or people put on themselves are just notions of existence for me. The roles they play, the lives they lead, and then their observation of themselves—or the lack of it—is what fascinates me. I lead with curiosity instead of judgment.