An artist is not free. They are always - almost
always, a prisoner of their society. Its mores,
its rules. Even if they rebel against those. their
opposition to them directs their rebellion and binds
them. An artist-dictator like the poet Mao Zedong is
as free as an artist can be in connection to the society
around them, but then they become a prisoner
of their own power, their own growing delusions.
Not that anyone else is free. Freedom is a great
illusion, at the best of time, and often a quite small
one. It barely covers the shackles one has on the feet,
or the collar around the neck. The demand for
artistic freedom still comes easily from the lips,
but the artist might as easily chant for Amida
Buddha. Dead words die in their own absurdity.
The society gives you a sheet and tells you
to sing, it puts a brush in your hand and tells you
what to paint, it gives you a pen and tells you
to write the Great [add name of country] Novel.
If you behave and do well, your daily rations
are increased. You will become a trustee.
24.06.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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