Carley

The drive to create still stands outside of money: people will squeeze it into the cracks of their lives, sacrifice comfort or even necessity, fight and claw and carve out time to make something, to share their understanding of the world. They shouldn’t have to, but goddammit, they do.

In the absence of objective or universal criteria for evaluating their work, ambivalence, excitement, and boredom serve as fulcrums for aesthetic judgment.

part of the point of sharing art is to give people something that cannot properly be valued.

But if the point of art is to know ourselves, and the point of an artist is to make art, we’d better know what money has done to us.

It’s tempting to think of art as outside of our practical needs: art does not hold up walls or keep us warm; it derives its value from our perceptions of it. It exists to prove we are capable of appreciating things beyond their practicality. We can see again how it is directly opposed to the inherent efficiency of money: if art were so crass as to

In the years that followed, she became increasingly interested in using fabrics in her work. She was attracted to their look and feel, but also to the history of textiles as an undervalued form of women’s labour and artistic expression – particularly as so many women were denied access to other mediums for so many centuries.

the artist’s responsibility to society, especially during dark times, was to preserve, nurture, and glorify the human spirit.

on and creates the context of the world around it. Art of any kind endures because it captures some understanding, some piece of the world, so purely that it becomes a piece of the world itself.

Flow is the feed. It’s the posts and the tweets. It’s the stream of daily and sub-daily updates that reminds people you exist.

Stock is the durable stuff. It’s the content you produce that’s as interesting in two months (or two years) as it is today. It’s what people discover via search. It’s what spreads slowly but surely, building fans over time.