ZERO-MAN: Maximalism Through Oil Painting. Chapter 9.


A Judas killed the son of God so that he may be sacrificed on the cross to suffer for us. This is the history of fear we are taught. The story of God reminds us that our living bodies are the price for a few coins. That every man should fear this power. The laws of greed take a man’s life in exchange for thirty pieces of silver. But we are all looking at this wrong. In my mind, as an artist: Money does not exist. This fear does not exist. This history does not exist. Only when I realize this do I call myself an artist when I know that my place in history is not to achieve coin but to cultivate my position as a creator, a man in love with the tools of his trade. Making creations with my prowess. Both from intelligence and craftsmanship. Money transactions help acquire materials, yet in the overall scheme of the invention, they are irrelevant to the artist and the spectator. True artists create because we were born an artist. Not because someone paid you to become one.

When you are a master at what you do, others will assist you in your material needs to continue creating. There is no need for any exchange but the artist speaking to his canvas. There is no other lover more substantial than this bond. When buyers, wives, and Judas realize this, you will become one with your work. The perfect tone will ensue. You will love mastering your tools and shedding all fear of alteration. Absent the torture of not knowing what to do because you already do it. When you are helpful in a community, a necessary tool for the populace of your community, they will bless you with every form of product they create in exchange for your masterpieces. That is the only goal of a true fine artist.  

Your demeanor and confidence as you perfect your trade work will inspire many. The works tell a story – consistently tracked back to the beginning and the end of your theme. Sometimes there is an end. Other times not, some continue to achieve constant struggles throughout each work. You are weaving them into an unending pattern. You alone control your demeanor. You are altering your history presently at will and creating a dream, nightmare, anger, or pause in real time. A brush or word is the tool through which your mind controls the medium and result. The process is divine through your pursuit. Capturing your reality, your uniqueness, and whether it be pain or pleasure, reveal itself amongst each tournament. It is a fight. You are removing distractions to find the peacefulness and presence to produce, picturing actions, and completing every day’s mission. Every hurdle and plateau is achieved. The illumination of color must recognize darkness. The daylight brings your visions into existence. Reality becomes yesterday’s accomplishments.  


The audience will always be there, whether you open or close your eyes. Perception should never be a prerequisite for production. Do not comply with temptations. Leave the viewers and art critics to folly politicians who pontificate fluff, promising while never delivering, fueling provocation to incite a bitter baseless debate. The result will be indescribable to your imagination and expectations.

Your hand and the light will guide you. Who ever heard of an artist painting in the dark? What inspirations happen when your eyes are closed or in the shadows? You turn your light source on to implement. You have a connection to God yet proficient with free will. Live inside of love, stabilized by your meanings; you coordinate instinctively. Promising nature to sing and dance within your abilities to bring harmony with your tools. Resolved to tune your instrument, render inside miraculous tactic to make nature’s blossoms revealed.

You are pushing and pulling the concepts of heaven and hell into question. The artistic end-to-tone ebbs and flows into my recent visions. I discussed with my student today that the results of work and how outsiders perceive it has little to do with the impact of your soul to release it. What the audience gets from your product is entirely abstract to your intentions. An artist’s tone in the painting is more to do with your mood than the viewer’s. You’re missing the point if you are worried about comments and rejection. The object is to express yourself. Your dreams, feelings, and visions. Push it all out until it drips with your questions. Complete the canvas in a way you have never seen in a painting. Freshly and authentic to your path. Each step is a window along the way you’ve not yet explored. They are getting you closer to the apex of your perfection. Absent to the people seated in the forum. The watchers detailing your every action can wait till you’re done. If an artist were to write or paint to please the viewer, you are not a painter with a perspective but a sign painter. Signs and windows are as departed as dreams and a stop sign. You will only dream when you close your eyes (in a sense). Invisible are the skeptics or critics, or lovers of what comes next.


Freedom is a saturated theory we’ve been illusioned to witness from birth. Fractionally disappearing every day, we’re alive until there is a space when our hearts and eyes open. As Santa, when we were young, only to learn is a story to keep us complacent. An illusion through Hollywood movie-making to trick your mind into having a chest full of coins. As you leave the theatre, coins spill from your pocket. On your walk home, you have a bag full. Then at work, the next day a few into a vending machine until you have one coin left in your hand. Buy an apple, and your last cash is gone. The movie was a dream. You never had any coins. You stole the apple. Or we imagined you had something to bargain with. To make you believe you’re working skill was replaced with a metallic object, or rather a piece of paper with ink printed on it.

Darkness is only here, away from heaven’s landscape. Only here with a man. The brutality of nature pales to the death performed by man alone. Revenant beings cold to the status of man may witness the solitude inside this love—Minus dreams of freedom. Awake by God’s saving grace, and nature carves a path on the earth, making rivers of humility, man cuts words into the heart of believers. He is following red–matching hot gullible fashions of human naiveites reliance on safe words.

What do we perceive as accurate or fantasy? Is it a story, a dream, or a path? How do we know what is real anymore? Written words are replaced with easily forgettable and readily refutable news clips, debunked, fact-checked, and forgotten. All learning removed – accurate histories marginalized into obscurity. Fact – quotes – all Hollywood’s fingerprints are at the crime scene. One may only grow through reality. If 99 people are against you, and a single one stands by your side, does that make you wrong or original? Do not ever follow the masses when it comes to freedom. It is a myth. Be an authentic artist with the agency. Allow none to corrupt your will. Survival and money are a fool’s errand. Autonomy and meaning are the tools of an artist. Without true love, there is no art. Only a slave will begin to stop you on your path to righteousness. There are no other paths.

None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free. – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 – 1832)

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