It is like the good/evil myth, the ‘quick rich’ myth, the ‘hot, rich, dashing lover’ myth. Whether it is our sense of being, our social living or our expression – we never exercise absolute freedom. Be it making a movie or writing a book or painting a picture, we are always doing it for an audience, we are always eliminating the criticism triggers, we are careful to avoid taking names, boasting fame, claiming blames.
It is impossible to do something for the very act of it (Art for art’s sake).
Just as it is tiresome and dishonest to write for an audience, be politically correct, and contort things (old school satire) to not be spotted by the very people who would read it. We are entrapped within our definitions.
K is such a victim. The professional space is suffocating her and now the blog has its set of readers writing back with references that would lead to questions. No matter how much she claims her inch of space of the WWW, she still is not free to paint that inch at whim.
Luckily, she is more than a letter in the alphabet, and as arbid as three sticks together called ‘K’.
Luckily, she is more than a letter in the alphabet, and as arbid as three sticks together called ‘K’.
