I  believe that some,, maybe just a few, produce wonderful art.... but with great pain and emotional turmoil they CHOOSE to stew.
gladly consumed with  tragedy and pain, that’s the time to strike... for them the ultimate point  for artistic gain

Of course we all need that gut wrenching exposure,  to enable self growth and some  constructive, self composure.
Art for me is the sincere and pure expression of our minds, the recollection of all “individual” perceptions

Deep down we only have that to give, its never right or wrong but can be representatively, sadly weak or beautifully strong
of course art is an individual embrace, anything less is just empty space and lets put beside that,  what I call the creative waste
A mass produced print, a badly written song,  that’s the place where weak art is lazy, offensive and wrong.
A human being to me is real art, moulded and shaped with each meddling heart
each one different, with an agenda of there own, don’t be naive, you will not sense it, rarely ever see it nor know.
There is always a thing, a person, a smell, that will leave its mark, somewhere dark and deep down inside you
. It could, would, should, will change you, the form you have willingly complied to.

Raised to be different, never be a sheep rebel, don’t conform, remember you are mine ..no doubt,  born to perform
but early exposure to complex artistic theory..believe me for a child is massively dreary
its does not satisfy that already over exposed infant mind, cant she play ...leave complex theory’s, idealist ideas ...all knowledge behind.

To know that your separate from all the others that eased into place, to me they were stagnant, no mind....artwork that could be understandably defaced
To be a small child with a yearning for books, of course  I was the child that was odd to most,  sometimes misunderstood.
The moulding had started, I had begun to form ... the sad part,  the odd child, that one that was not the norm.

It wasn’t that hard to overcome that place, I removed my mind from that world, rarely showed my face. Became painfully shy  and gladly detached, my moulding had been so strong, so creative and bright, the need had gone to attach

For 23 years I never gelled well, I found it so hard to do normal things, it had to be deep and huge knowledge was a must to bring!
Otherwise to me it was wasted time, with no knowledge gained I  had let down my mind

I was different, clever, all from a young age and of  course it was great but I could not engage
It left me weak, socially paralysed and with the intelligence this should really have been no surprise. I desperately wanted to be just like all  the others, close friendships, girl y nights, duvet days with a lover
but unfortunately for the moulded me, I had no tools to reconstruct, become socially free

It was then,  right at my weakest point . Stuck in a Psyc ward..... oh my god... my brain monumentally bored ..I looked around and all I could see, was the most genuine and perfect art in front of me
some where lost and some where found, walking artwork, a huge huge mound, in all its mess and all its imperfection... it softened the blow on my emotional  disconnection.

I had to think quick and I had to think hard, this was the art where I could let down the guard!
I wanted that art moulding me from new, they could have, vulnerable, I wanted so bad  to do what they do
It was Erscher, Monet, Angelo rolled in one....just a great piece of art, made with chewed, old psychologically gum, nasty and off but malleable and tough, we looked after each other, all lunatics all rough.

What should have been hell was in fact just the best! it was that artwork, that pure artwork I  hold eternally close to my chest.
Our crazy hearts held on to each other, everyday a new one role playing “the loving mother” the pusher, the encourager to, the mental, the unstable ...they all played parts too!

In that life changing place, your vulnerable but safe, it was lunacy to have that in a place deemed “mentally” unsafe!
The eye opener for me is very simple and clear, they were not interest in my intelligence what good would that do in here!
They were all very clever, incredibly bright but were kinda drugged up to put out the light

When medication was given, the tricks they had... they would pop out later, catch up have a fag. some never spoke, but where fully aware, gladly playing dumb to stop the staff’s   “you behaving” nosey glare.
these people were smart but in a way I had not seen, the crazy creative line had been crossed, now a pipe dream.

But the odd little wink aimed straight in my direction
assured me that these people where doused in love, art and a sincere creative intention!

Daniella bull