All of the people I know who are artists right now feel invigorated, terrified, liberated, endangered. Full of life and energy. Everybody else is having a panic attack.
I feel like for most of my lifetime artists have been warning about the dangers of Western capitalist imperialism growing out of control. Now they are in full bloom and every institution, from the art world to the Oval Office, seems to be under public review. They maintain control only because a viable alternative has not yet been discovered.
Anxiety is a drive to create something, and I feel the collective panic of the West is a general understanding We Need To Build A New Thing but it has to be completely new and at an unprecedented scale of public accomplishment. (It must not be Silicon Valley neoliberalism.)
It’s a strange time; the world is waiting for a Phoenix, and meanwhile seems content with watching everything burn.