Clare Means

(The Third Street Promenade, 20 April 2013)

An artist cannot help being, and translating who he is into a narrative. If one finds aspects of beauty in oneself and translates these, one succeeds as an artist.

Few are artists. While some are tall buildings and fluid fabrics, others are merely a smooth gait, a wit, a reassuring profile. Nevertheless, most can find gratification in distilling a part of themselves into the beauty that can be passed on, onto the audience of strangers. One creates when the external narrative is either lacking or inspires a dialogue.

There is wisdom in being but a reporter---not a schemer, nor a moralist, nor a nostalgist---especially when one is of the age when one is supposed to be alive. One gets only one chance at being oneself, followed by numerous an opportunity for revising the account of what one used to be.