Views : 684,247
Genre: Entertainment
Date of upload: Mar 25, 2024 ^^
Rating : 4.952 (593/48,846 LTDR)
RYD date created : 2024-05-10T16:47:07.892786Z
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In college, there was an art exhibition on campus focused on the impermanence of art. One of the exhibits was a bowl of ashes titled "this painting was destroyed before the exhibition." Next to it was an oil painting titled "this painting will be destroyed if it is not taken by the end of the exhibition." I visited the exhibition every day, and nobody took the painting. On the last day, the painting was still there. I couldn't bear to see such craftsmanship destroyed, so I took it. Now it hangs in my bedroom, where only I can see it. Lately, I find myself looking at it and thinking "I'm the only one who ever sees this painting. Is this any different than if it were actually destroyed?"
Edited to actually close my quotation marks
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After Syd Barrett left Pink Floyd, he returned to his birth name Roger Barrett and spent the rest of his life in reclusion painting. The vast majority of his work was never seen by anyone but him and maybe his close family, because he destroyed most of his paintings upon finishing them. It's an incredible contrast to the exuberant displays and mainstream visibility that Pink Floyd went on to do those same years.
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There's a similar notion I've been mulling over for some time now. When I read a book, I create a movie in my mind. All the characters and locales take on a specific shape that my brain forms from the writer's words. My own unique, non-transferable version of the universe and the people in it. However, once a film or TV show is created, those people and places become fixed. Daenerys Targaryen now looks like Emilia Clarke. Aragorn will forever be Vigo Mortensen. Every film adaptation invades a little bit of my mental real estate.
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When I was working on a comic project I hoped would be my masterpiece, I befriended someone who offered to assist me. At first I agreed, as any help with coloring and shading (my least favorite parts) is helpful, and everything would have been fine if he'd left it at that.
As years passed my assistant became my co writer, adding his suggestions, then characters, then rewrites, then changing the genre and the very purpose of the story. I would kneel on the floor crying and begging him to stop but he would look down at me, wait for me to catch my breath, and continue pushing changes as though I had said nothing. Eventually his name went before mine on the creative credits. He was the main name on the websites. Then he talked me into turning one of my lead characters evil so he could be replaced with his own and I snapped. I did the only thing I still had power to do- I killed the project.
Thus led to a two year mental breakdown where I couldn't draw nor write. He didn't understand anything I was going through. He still doesn't.
A while back he suggested that we play The Beginner's guide together. It was... uncomfortable. Here was a game about an artist meeting a fan who gradually takes over their life, changing the works against the creator's will, and not understanding what was wrong. I looked at my former co writer, wondering why he wanted me to play this as it MUST be a sick joke on his part, and I saw... nothing. No recognition. No flicker of recognition on how closely this game matched our own experience.
He thought the game was about bad internet critics.
I still don't know how to process this.
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I'm not to the end of the video yet, but the idea of "art for no one" evokes, for me, the reality of everyone's singleplayer Minecraft worlds. An idea implied in "for no one" is "(except the creator.)" There are probably millions of beautiful, intricate, or personally meaningful things people have created in singleplayer game files, only to never touch that world again, to lose it on a broken hard drive, or at least, never made accessible to the public. I'm not fully comfortable equating Minecraft with art, but it feels analogous.
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One of my friends made a painting that his art teacher called the best piece he’s ever seen. My friend painted over it completely and now hangs the completely black canvas over his door. I have still never seen the original. Only my friend and the teacher have. And no one else will. I think about this more than I should.
My friend never took a picture. And has said he forgot what the original looked like.
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The Nazca lines are completely viewable from nearby hills. The concept that they are only visible from the air is one made up by ancient alien conspiracies - although the effort to make them properly proportioned to a perfectly down-ward view may imply that the goal is to be viewable by the heavens/stars/gods
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The Beginners Guide was... kind of a turning point for me. In some ways, it's when I began to think of myself as an aspiring game designer.
When we get to that note in the game... Well, I was thinking that Coda had died, but I also knew that that felt a bit too obvious. What I still haven't really been able to fully figure out is... Yes, I gasped when I found out that Coda was alive, and had asked the narrator to stop speaking with him. I looked at that first note for a full minute before moving on. It recontextualize everything before it.
But, it was finding out that the narrator added the lampposts to each game that made me cry. I stared at that for... I'm not sure. It could have been five minutes or an hour. Something about that just... twisted a knife in me. I guess it was just simply that the narrator had led me to believe that there was some significance to these lampposts, some deep wisdom being shared through their constant inclusion.
But it turns out that their significance was only in the absolute betrayal they represented. And somehow that hurt so much more than when I thought Coda had died before finishing any of these interesting game concepts. But it hurt in this deeply personal way. That's what I haven't been able to figure out... Why does it hurt like he betrayed me?
I guess simply that I have empathy, and that game is an extremely well-made piece of art.
EDIT: Super weird bit of synchronicity; right after I watched this video, I went to facebook to check my memories.
Literally the first one is my post I made after completing The Beginners Guide exactly 1 year ago.
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Probably the most damaged of Goya’s Black Paintings by institutional interpretation is the painting “Drowning Dog”. It is the most minimalist of Goya’s paintings, but very emotive, with all matter being held in the bottom-left corner the little dog is, with its eyes held up to the majority of the painting, a swath of off-white near-emptiness. Despite this, it’s held at the prized end of the “Black Paintings” hall in the Museo del Prada, with its plaque proclaiming it to be the best work of this series and definitively a drowning dog.
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About the Rat King image from Plexus, I wonder if it's intended to display the violence of the action of revealing it.
It is not simply splayed along the edges. No, it was complete in the pages. The reader splays it, in an effort to reveal what is inside you splay and cut through the plexus of the art created by the artist.
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I'll admit, my primary reaction to City's existence is pure contrarianism. "A place in the desert that I can't go? That I can't take pictures of? Says who? Can they stop me?" Just a gut reaction of opposition, before even any consideration of art- An artist can create art, can present that art to the world, but to tell the world how they can and cannot engage with that art? I don't really think that's up to them. ...That is a sort of entitlement, obviously. But we are entitled to some things, it's not always a word synonymous with 'unreasonable', and I feel like my own biases aside, there is still a line to be found there, somewhere.
What are the limits of privacy? Coda, in the Beginner's Guide, certainly seems like their privacy was violated. Prince's feels more hard to judge. And City? The idea of a thing so large it ceases to be a thing and becomes a place- CAN that even be considered private in the first place? Does anyone have that right? Heck if I know.
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@JacobGeller
1 month ago
My book, "How a Game Lives," is available for pre-order now. The deluxe edition- which includes prints and a vinyl album- will only be available until May 10! www.lostincult.co.uk/howagamelives
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