An artist walks into a fourth-wave coffee shop and asks for the usual. One person’s usual is another person’s surprise. There’s a storm brewing outside and the barista brings up the weather. This isn’t the artist’s place of work, but it’s becoming work for them. The artist is discussing the real world, not the conceptual world. What is the proper response? Is there a proper response?
What would happen if the artist in the café line overheard someone say their taste in music was eclectic and they chose to intervene? How would they intervene? Would they ask the stranger for some clarification or an explanation? Or would they sink or slink, like most individuals in their positions? What would the artist learn? What would the alleged audiophile discover?
What might happen if the artist made friends with the alleged audiophile and invited them to attend said artist’s upcoming art opening? What could a person expect from the included artworks? What might they be looking for when considering the totality of the collective artworks? Maybe they would expect them to sound like their favorite eclectic playlist.
A separate artist wanders about the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, wondering if they’ll eventually, potentially be marooned somewhere until they perish. Every great artist I know thinks about their mortality and their legacy. Do you not question yours?
Footprints can be mile markers of and for your existence. Is that not poetic enough for you? Every step forward is a step toward the rest of your new life. No, seriously — call a Buddhist; they’ll probably say the same thing to you, phrased in a way you can’t understand. I mean every word I’m saying. And we cannot excuse miscommunication in the midst of such disinformation.
We have hope, we have faith, we have trust, we have acceptance. An artist must accept (and subvert) most everything in order to achieve the maximum desired effect. The viewer ought to suspend most of their subjective desires and preferences in order to receive the artist’s general objectives, as impossible as that might seem.
Art is a relationship unlike any other. There is an invisible contract signed by all serious participants. You’re either in or you’re out, and that’s that. Once you pick up the pen, that’s the end; there’s no turning back.
⁃ Keith J. Varadi, March 2026
