“Why is art beautiful? Because it’s useless. Why is life ugly? Because it’s all aims, objectives and intentions.” – Fernando Pessoa
The creation of my work is mostly self-satisfying in a most destructive manner. The work exists in my head, is created in a moment of passion and then exists in a state of being that is neither alive or dead.
That final state kills me since I’d prefer to not be reminded of my mortality, loneliness and uselessness.
Life goes on–bills must be paid, supplies gotten, food eaten.
The created work sits idly by slowly being covered in dust. But what of it? Everything is slowly covered by dust and/or turning to it.
To sit in a basement, hang on a lonely wall or live in a speculators tax shelter are all the same. The preciousness of your idea is either totally ignored or sold for a premium and then ignored.
But I digress. I’m tired of stewing in the soup of pecuniary philosophy!
One must live and for me to live is for me to insist on art and to insist on an artist’s life is to insist on living uselessly.
And that is what I shall do.
A diabetic’s life seems to follow one of two patterns:
For the ordered life you can measure your day by the times you take your pills or injections, the times you have to test your blood, etc.
And because you don’t want the health consequences of the illness you’re roped into the cycle of maintenance. You must buy insulin, you must buy test strips, etc.
So, what’s interesting for me is both the cost of testing supplies and the nature of the secondary market that was created because of it.
For a 50 pack of Accu-Check SmartView test strips Walmart is charging you $89. Mind you, if you have insurance you may be able to get them slightly cheaper. Alternatively, you can get the ReliOn equivalent from them for $9.
Yes, yes, yes. There’s confidence in a brand! But there’s also the price lowering world of mass production. Point is when you sell billions of test strips and reap rewards from the insurance companies for your overcharging there’s no incentive to actually help the little guy.
Hence, a bizarre and terrible underground market is created and odd parking lot deals are performed from a craigslist ad.
It’s like spy stuff but for confused people who were thrown into poking themselves with needles in order to survive.