2 B r n't 2 B a Fine Arts Major

I feel conflicted:

I must be doing something wrong.
Or: I must be doing something right.
The feeling’s the same on the edge.

To be doing something right
entails neglect if not the
doing-something-else-wrong
in some other parallax just as
in the same way paying
efficient attention generates
massive amounts of attention
deficit where attention might
rightly be paid. No no-doubt.
Doubt!

Attention Deficient?
But of course: how
else focus, efficient
for awhile?

I feel conflicted:

Is it because I am doing something
wrong or because I’m doing some
thing right? Feeling’s the same
either way. .

A phenomenologism of a former
student, artist & piano player again
and again recorded in class: I feel
conflicted she would observe, caught
in some double bind of on-the-one-
hand and on-the-other.

She wasn’t complaining: merely
acknowledging the agon (y): as a
fine arts major.

Righting/Wronging .
Writhing /Wrangling:
life along the edge:
what Melville
calls “wrestling with the angel Art.

I feel conflicted:
I must be doing it right/wrong—
where it was right, now wrong;
where wrong: now right, and
so it goes and goes. Right.
Wrong.

Any fine artist or athlete will find
this description candid and clear.

“I feel conflicted!”

Exactly.

To the Howard Cosells: a seeming
betrayal of levels, sacrificing rock
for the hard pace and who can say
if that’s right or if that’s wrong?

These distinctions aren’t transparent
and the feeling of conflict makes
perfectly good sense if the rush
to determine, blame-explain,
lay down reasons why,
scapegoat because &
affect is deferred—
suspended..

Put off as long as possible.