The Heart Of The Beast----Page 30

I saw the disturbing scenes played out
indoors and in the streets. Prostitution took on
many forms. It was becoming difficult to
tell who the exploited was and how exploitation
in general and victimhood in particular had
become such a codependent situation. Sometimes
the scene lost all semblance of control. Violence
erupted in a sudden and spectacular display of
naked aggression. Everyone was surprised and
shocked. Suddenly the game was over.
The immediate result of anarchy in the
scene was for the major players to isolate
themselves from the wild cards that had been
allowed to drift in and out of the social
situation. This led to stagnation. A conservative
dull tone prevented the most interesting ideas
and elements from presenting themselves to the
artist. The identity of the artist as an artist
was weakened and drawn into question. The trade
off between security and art seemed painfully
expensive and limiting.
I had the feeling that the same mistakes
would be made again and again. That security
led to complacency. That art could only exist
conjoined with a certain element of risk and
that this equation could not be faked and
perhaps not even orchestrated. Perhaps certain
things had to develop naturally, organically. And
that this type of artistic Darwinism would never
be survival of the fittest, but almost
inversely, survival of the wildest. Like an
animal that can not be tamed.