Question (From Jim Means, a professor friend of mine I’ve known since High School): Paul Erdős–the most prolific mathematician of the 20th century, lived such a nomadic lifestyle. He would wander from continent to continent, knocking on the doors of other mathematicians and announce “My brain is open!” with the hope that they would invite him into stay in their home for weeks or months. Most would invite him in. They knew this would guarantee them a collaboration with Erdős. Consequently, they would get one or two academic papers out of it.
Perhaps you could do the same with other poets.
My Response: Well, it’s not a bad thought. However, there’s not much market demand for poetry. There’s also little demand for the works of poets. At least not as much as for mathematical or scientific papers. In Europe, poets rely on the state’s arts stipends to fuel their work. Poets, writers, and artists are considered respected vocational pursuits throughout Europe. This contrasts with the US; where saying one is a poet or a painter is basically to invite the retort, ‘why, can’t you get a real job?’
Art takes decades to master. It must be perfected into a discipline to produce value that a market will pay for. The problem in the quick-buck US is that there is no infrastructure outside of academia that permits an artist to practice and perfect their craft. We live under the delusion that artists either are born with it and immediately recognizably ‘geniuses’ or piddle away in isolation dying long before their work is recognized and cashed in on, ala Van Gogh.
The fulfillment from creating beauty is profound. It attempts to point at the eternal and universal. This beauty endures long after one has shaken off mortal constraints. It is worth the hard times and sacrifice.
It’s a stab at immortality, if you will. If you can’t take it with you, you might as well leave something worthwhile behind.
There is nothing I can rent, buy, or lay away that matches the genuine human connection art brings. This connection forms when a young person approaches me after a reading. They genuinely express their appreciation for the ideas and images I put in their heads. These ideas changed the way they saw things. This is when I realize my work is effective. And it is worth a million times more than some contrived award or accolade.
There is no greater enjoyment of humanity that I can muster.
The Real War of Art
Question (From Jim Means, a professor friend of mine I’ve known since High School):
Paul Erdős–the most prolific mathematician of the 20th century, lived such a nomadic lifestyle. He would wander from continent to continent, knocking on the doors of other mathematicians and announce “My brain is open!” with the hope that they would invite him into stay in their home for weeks or months. Most would invite him in. They knew this would guarantee them a collaboration with Erdős. Consequently, they would get one or two academic papers out of it.
Perhaps you could do the same with other poets.
My Response: Well, it’s not a bad thought. However, there’s not much market demand for poetry. There’s also little demand for the works of poets. At least not as much as for mathematical or scientific papers. In Europe, poets rely on the state’s arts stipends to fuel their work. Poets, writers, and artists are considered respected vocational pursuits throughout Europe. This contrasts with the US; where saying one is a poet or a painter is basically to invite the retort, ‘why, can’t you get a real job?’
Art takes decades to master. It must be perfected into a discipline to produce value that a market will pay for. The problem in the quick-buck US is that there is no infrastructure outside of academia that permits an artist to practice and perfect their craft. We live under the delusion that artists either are born with it and immediately recognizably ‘geniuses’ or piddle away in isolation dying long before their work is recognized and cashed in on, ala Van Gogh.
The fulfillment from creating beauty is profound. It attempts to point at the eternal and universal. This beauty endures long after one has shaken off mortal constraints. It is worth the hard times and sacrifice.
It’s a stab at immortality, if you will. If you can’t take it with you, you might as well leave something worthwhile behind.
There is nothing I can rent, buy, or lay away that matches the genuine human connection art brings. This connection forms when a young person approaches me after a reading. They genuinely express their appreciation for the ideas and images I put in their heads. These ideas changed the way they saw things.
This is when I realize my work is effective. And it is worth a million times more than some contrived award or accolade.
There is no greater enjoyment of humanity that I can muster.
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