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                     ANDREA PAGNEs
                     Lives and works in Florence and venice, italy
                                        www://worldofartmagazine.com/readarticles.htm
               artist contact
                            andrea.pagnes@hotmail.com
                                                                CrACK sMOKer (seLFPOrTrAIT), 2007 mixeD meDia, coUrtesy tHe artist
            Contemporary thought is eclectic.
            Man  is  moving  ever  closer  to  a
            culture  of  becoming,  and  not
            of  being.   Art,  in  general,  thus
            becomes  an  evocation  of  other
            possible  worlds,  provided  that
            it  does  not  have  history  at  its
            complete disposal without having
            first  run  through  its  spatio-
            temporal context.  But nowadays
            this does not happen.  Now man
            is  disappointed  by  art  because
            he expects from it the realisation
            of  something  that  is  other-
            than-himself.    He  expects  new
            indications,  while  art  can  only
            manage to pile dust on dust. The
            most tragic and painful aspect is
            that in this culture of becoming
            man  is  ever  more  aware  that
            he  is  a  creature  that  can  in  no
            way  go  beyond  itself.    Faced
            with  the  rapid-fire  mutations
            of  objective  evidence,  he  is
            destabilised  and  incapable  of
            finding his centre within the real.
            The artist, the poet, incapable of
            taking charge of the real that is
            incessantly  eluding  his  grasp,
            substitutes it with a universe of
            signs,  colours  and  words  that
            endlessly repeat the painful truth:
            “man is a creature that possesses
            no  means  with  which  to  move
            beyond  itself.    he  is  a  prisoner
            of  his  own  making,  incapable
            of  fighting  himself”.      This  is
            an  implacable  repetition  that,
            however,  remains  immutable
            before the void of life; it continues
            to  repeat  itself  precisely  in
            order  to  find  an  escape  route,
            a  solution  to  dramatic,  anxiety-
            ridden  tension.  Yet  in  our  era,
            people  often  become  artists  to
            satisfy a need for identity; art is                                                                       TRENDS
            used to affirm a depressing and
            lamentable  individuality,  and
            this is an agony we are all guilty
            of  having  brought  about. Art  is
            art.  Poetry is poetry.  Writing is
            writing.  And this is all.
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