Welcome to the second edition of The Dilettante!
Since the digital publishing of the first edition in August, The Dilettante has branched into the world wide web – our website (dilettantezine.com) went live on October 5th. While some content will be made available on both platforms, the site and the publication will also feature unique works. Thus, I lovingly encourage you to explore each one.
This site, and this new edition, would not have been possible without the help of our new team members and contributors. I feel incredibly lucky to have the oportunity to work with such talented individuals and provide a platform for the dissemination of incredible art. Thank you so much to everyone who has contributed time and energy to this project.
October’s theme is decay. As leaves turn from green to brown and fall to the sidewalk and crunch beneath our feet, we familiarize ourselves with the necessity of death with every step we take. The red orange yellow of autumn, the breakdown of chlorophyll, the precursor of demise – in this season, we find comfort in the assurance of death and decomposition. Through decay, we are nourished and reborn, come again to the light.
Before the light comes, however, there is much to be reaped in the sacred hours between dusk and dawn, prolonged by the tilt of the flying rock on which we reside. October is a time for retraction, falling into yourself to prepare for the rebecoming. As I curl up beneath my covers each night, I like to feel the beating and bleeding of my heart. There is beauty in the dark.
In a commentary on “ugly” art, Jerry Saltz stated, “It’s art that pushes against psychological and social expectations, that tries to transform decay into something generative, that is replicative in a baroque way, that isn’t about progress and wants to — as Walt Whitman put it — ‘contain multitudes.’” This recognition of value in imperfection and pure passion is a perspective I prefer to take with art, one that is central to the mission of this publication.
The Dilettante is about providing an accessible space for artists. I don’t believe that technical or historical knowledge is necessary to the creation or consumption of art. Instead, I truly believe that everyone is an artist. We are all creators, architects of our own thoughts and dreams. Art, at its core, is simply a communication of these things; through various media, we are able to express our emotions and opinions and ideas. That’s what it’s all about. So, let it be ugly. Embrace the grotesque, horrifying reality of human existence.
Published in Edition 2 of The Dilettante.