I come from a hard place called Detroit. Detroit may have a rough and dirty exterior and is cold, (literally) and rough to live in, but inside, it is charming, intelligent, and REAL, as are most cities. It's art scene is a crucial element of that REALness. Miami is the complete opposite; It is like that gorgeous woman you meet in a posh club, she is so appealing to the eye, but once you tap beneath the skin, there is a void. Miami is that hot woman, fake everything, void of intellect/charm/emotion and really quite cruel and difficult to get along with. It takes and doesn't give. It could care less if you are hurt by it and it voraciously eats up those who get too close to cracking its hardened, botox injected surface.
I have worked diligently to try to find a Miami that inspires me. I have explored the nature of this place and put that into my art; I have worked as a Paranormal Investigator to find it's history seeping through the plastered cracks; and I planted my seed here, to stay for a while. Now, however, I find my roots growing in infertile ground. I am like that drooping plant on my window sill that will not flower because it is not well fed. In a city full of air plants, I am an artist that needs the nutrients of soil to grow.
Despite my needs, I ask, how does a city (and it's art scene) really mature into a blooming flower if it does not have those essential 'vitamins' and 'minerals'? Miami has lost the nature of 'human nature.' It is a neglectful parent. How can an artist survive in an environment that doesn't care or nurture, is purely objective and has no rules? I cannot. Either I have to find a new job, a new city to live in -or better yet- Miami has to mature and start nurturing and supporting its artists, rather than exploit them on their window sill and leave them for dead.
(I am going to go feed my plant now. Thank you.)
