A few years ago, I was awarded a Professional Development Course for artists. Part of the homework was to write an Artist Statement. I worked and worked; polishing an eliminating, until I only had the kernel that was “me.” When I read it out; I was told: “That’s what everyone would say.”
I got tired of being known as just “Doug,” or “Oh, him,” or “If he’s coming; I’m not going,” and decided to remake my image — “Doug the Beloved” [the guy who used to be just “him.”] I was just about to announce this, when there was a Pandemic and the bar was closed — why does this sort of thing always happen to me?
February 23, 2021
I don’t know what to call the use that I made of this famous poem. It wasn’t recycled because so much of the original structure remains. It wasn’t repurposed because love of nature is at the core of both. Probably “redecorated” would be a better description: Twisting the strands of reverie to make a net that captures the darker side our false stewardship.
In these days of acceptable pollution and understandable destruction of the natural world, no amount of academic assurances can ameliorate the pain of seeing what is being done.