There is of course the hard-sell, the shy-faced attempt to make it stood financially upright and lucrative, and I am not going to rant on in that overestimated direction. This is art for art’s sake, purely cut and seasonably simple. I’m not gonna do it. Put simply, it feeds into every single word I feel that I can create right now. Great artist’s like Denis literally carry the full scope of visual that my open-ended words crave. A solid resting ground that surely a million imaginations that read cannot particularly adhere too. But, above all else, one that I cannot ever adhere too, it seems. Basically, way I see it, you fall into a love of “art” on a grand scale without realizing nor recognizing it fully happening as it happens at all. Course I see how the deeper you fall, the more in search of solitude you become. Why? Not a clue, I just get it. Maybe because.. art, great art!! offers you the flaws and all that humans aren’t quite as readily able to accept in reality and right in front of their constant and unpardonable glare? And with art, at least the flaws have to come to a halt somewhere. In many an instance in the framing of a canvas, perhaps, so as to be able to cut their own corners, so to speak, and to graciously step away from out-and-out futility. That’s where films take-over and go all nasty. Ask Tarantino, ask him where exactly do the films end and he begin. Artists – GREAT artist’s – just seem to have an in-built ability to want to live more. Feel more. Be much more. And remember, this is just one of seven plus billion opinions, hence where there will never, ever EVER be one defining answer. So, yeah! STOP LOOKING FOR IT, PLEASE! – P.Art.

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