This is getting ridiculous, shouldn’t they start making digital media prone to visible decay or something?
Aa conservatives and liberals fight against each other eternally, they show how they form together a “controlled evolution” system that takes part in the shaping of the growth of the medium it takes place in. Among these forms, patriarchy versus matriarchy is well-known.
This model isn’t correct; they’re on the same side.
That should be the filiarchy.
Hirst’s work can appear rather beautiful.
An entrepreneurial approach when doing your work is not a shortcoming when you’re alive in the 21st century and overt narcissism is always a desirable quality in an artist.
The conscious realization of both traits and using them doesn’t have to be inartistic if it can be perceived as the exact opposite. However, insincere insincerity in one’s work is a different case and should be looked at differently.
In Hirst’s case, genuineness is something very difficult to discern. Understanding whether he is sincere or not should change the way his art is perceived. It’s strange how this ambiguity contributes to the allure of his work.
Is he an artist, or is he not? Is he genuine about his work? Is it a design or is it natural? Does the viewer have enough mental room to genuinely decide for themselves?
Tracey Emin, who once said about Hirst, “There is no comparison between him and me; he developed a whole new way of making art and he’s clearly in a league of his own. It would be like making comparisons with Warhol.” seems to realize this paradox. It could be a part of her artistic psyche to label him as an artist.
Many people like putting themselves on display. Artists like to go a bit further and display themselves more overtly — much to their humiliation and thanks to their natural attention whoredom — in a very presentable manner.
This masochistic aspect of showing one’s own undesirable traits to others for the pure sake of showing is unique. Tracey Emin does not seem to mind being seen negatively. In a sense, she sells herself through her art, and not her art through herself.
Get Naked (I Got a Plan)
OK, so here’s the deal.
Why not just get someone to listen to our own stories? We would yap about all the shit we done all day, pointless and pointful, to someone who would never wait for their turn to speak. It’s so simple, you will just need another copy of yourself who wants nothing in life but listen to its original version. Though consequently, that would definitely not be a clone.
The 1920s:
The Flapper, cover of Life Magazine, 1922.
Thus we may presume that taste has relatively existed at a certain point in modern history.
WeirdPress 
