I think I was born dadaist. I was certainly into dadaism long before I knew of its existence. With Dada there are no rules. I like that. I’m a walking contradiction, like most people. That’s so very Dada. By nature I’m a non-conformist, who likes some conformity. When I eventually discovered Dadaism in my early adult life it totally struck a chord. Being a pacifist meant that this art form born out of the horrors of the first world war resonated with me.
As Wikipedia puts it
”Developed in reaction to World War I, the Dada movement consisted of artists who rejected the logic, reason, and aestheticism of modern capitalist society, instead expressing nonsense, irrationality, and anti-bourgeois protest in their works. The art of the movement spanned visual, literary, and sound media, including collage, sound poetry, cut-up writing, and sculpture. Dadaist artists expressed their discontent toward violence, war, and nationalism, and maintained political affinities with radical left-wing and far-left politics.”
Dada is the only real way I know how to express myself. My thought processes are often lateral. Thoughts combine as strange cocktails that aren’t strange at all. Everyone is an artist. Anti-art is art. All art is anti-art. Long live Dada.
