In this moment, for our sake, let us redefine the word "artist" in an attempt to rid of it the inkling of pretentiousness it seems to connote. An artist, I believe, is anyone who can relate and experience an abstract through a concrete in its genuine totality. What I mean by this, is an artist should be able to parallel emotions and experience (the abstract) through multiple mediums, whether it be painting, writing music or poetry, sculpting, dancing, singing, or even listening and simple observation (the concrete). Where I provide lenience of its dictionary definition as "a person who produces works in any of the arts" lies within the listening and observing aspects of my definition. A man or woman who listens to Erik Satie's gymnopedia number 1, for example, and feels or experiences sadness I believe is just as much an artist as the author of the song itself. A man or woman who watches a sunset and feels a profound sense of calm and peace, I consider to be an artist. The point is, we all have the potential to be artists through simple listening and observing, and we are not confined as artists to the production process. Even for those of us who do experience art through production, creativity lends much of its truth to listening and observing.
Our creative capacities, however, are often obscured by a subconscious plight to abide into the current. We tend to model our arts towards certain codes and conventions of our time, and as a result undermine the very essence of what it means to be an artist. Thus what I mentioned earlier, "to experience an abstract through a concrete in its genuine totality", relates to the notion that as production artists, we need to strip ourselves of any presuppositions or expectations and surrender to absolute honesty: honesty to one's own emotions, values and perspectives, and honesty to your mode of production. For me, honesty was achieved by succumbing to moments of ephemeral inspiration, relying solely on what was brought forth within these moments and excluding any outward influences. My experiences in writing poetry and music has always depended on capturing those brief instances of inspiration:
Inspiration comes and goes,
like age moving on a cheek;
in early time: a forceful glow,
but worn it sags in defeat.
All the songs on "Unity Amidst Chaos" were composed within one session, ensnaring those creative peeks and inspirational blisses. As a result, every song encompasses the genuine entity of these specific moments. In turn, many of the songs on this album might sound incomplete, or lack certain textual elements. Nevertheless, the root of these subtle deficiencies ironically substantiate what I believe to be true artistry.