“It is impossible for someone to lie unless he thinks he knows the truth. Producing bullshit requires no such conviction. A person who lies is thereby responding to the truth, and he is to that extent respectful of it. When an honest man speaks, he says only what he believes to be true; and for the liar, it is correspondingly indispensable that he considers his statements to be false. For the bullshitter, however, all these bets are off: he is neither on the side of the true nor on the side of the false. His eye is not on the facts at all, as the eyes of the honest man and of the liar are, except insofar as they may pertain to his interest in getting away with what he says. He does not care whether the things he says describe reality correctly. He just picks them out, or makes them up, to suit his purpose.”
Artists need copyright law because it gives their creative work a basic layer of protection, dignity, and sustainability.
First, it recognizes authorship. Copyright law legally links a work to its creator. This matters because art is not just an object, it is an extension of thought, experience, and time. Without that recognition, anyone could claim or reuse the work as if it had no origin.
Second, it prevents unauthorized copying and exploitation. Copyright gives artists control over how their work is reproduced, sold, modified, or distributed. Without it, others could profit from an artist’s labor while the artist receives nothing in return.
Third, it allows artists to earn a living. Many artists rely on licensing, commissions, prints, publishing, or royalties. Copyright makes these systems possible by defining who has the right to monetize a work and under what terms.
Fourth, it protects creative integrity. Artists can object to distortions, misuse, or contexts that misrepresent their work or intent. This is especially important when art carries personal, cultural, or political meaning.
Fifth, it encourages continued creation. When artists know their work will not be freely taken or erased, they are more likely to keep creating and sharing. A system with no protection often favors those with money and platforms, not creators.
At a global level, frameworks like the Berne Convention ensure that artists’ rights are respected across borders, while tools such as Creative Commons allow artists to intentionally share their work on their own terms.
In short, copyright law is not about limiting creativity. It exists to make sure creativity can survive without being taken advantage of.
I think creative ideas come from personal experience and curiosity.
From what we live through, what stays with us, and the questions we can’t stop asking. Curiosity pushes us to explore, and experience gives those explorations meaning. When the two meet, ideas start to form naturally, without being forced.
Personal experience gives ideas their weight, and curiosity gives them movement. Experience shapes how you see the world, while curiosity keeps you looking beyond what you already know. One grounds the idea, the other keeps it alive.
When curiosity meets lived experience, ideas don’t feel borrowed or artificial. They feel honest, because they come from paying attention to your own life and still wanting to understand more.
What is a narcissist, and how do you recognize one? Learn the signs of narcissistic personality disorder and what to do if you’re dealing with a narcissist.
NFTs and digital art remain an important breakthrough not because of short term market prices, but because they solved long standing structural problems that digital creators faced for decades.
For most of its history, digital art was culturally visible but economically fragile. Files could be copied endlessly, attribution was easy to remove, and ownership was impossible to prove in a native digital way. As a result, digital art was often treated as disposable, promotional, or secondary to physical work. Value existed in attention, not in the object itself.
NFTs introduced a technical shift rather than a stylistic one. For the first time, a digital artwork could have verifiable authorship, provenance, and scarcity without relying on institutions, galleries, or centralized platforms. This did not suddenly make all digital art valuable, but it changed the rules of what was possible. Digital works could now exist as collectable objects rather than just images circulating online.
The decline in market prices does not undo this breakthrough. Markets fluctuate, especially early ones driven by speculation. What mattered was not the inflated valuations, but the establishment of infrastructure. Wallets, on chain provenance, creator royalties, and peer to peer ownership created a foundation that did not exist before. Even in a quieter market, these systems continue to function.
Another key shift is psychological rather than financial. NFTs forced a broader cultural acknowledgment that digital labor is real labor, and that digital objects can carry meaning, history, and personal attachment. This parallels earlier moments in art history when new mediums were dismissed before being normalized, such as photography, video art, or digital music files.
Importantly, NFTs also separated validation from traditional gatekeepers. Artists no longer needed approval from galleries or publishers to issue work, document its origin, and reach collectors directly. Even if many projects failed, the principle remains powerful. The ability for creators to define context, edition size, and relationship with audiences is a lasting change.
In this sense, declining prices may even be healthy. They remove speculative noise and return focus to intention, experimentation, and long term practice. When value is no longer guaranteed by hype, the medium becomes more honest and closer to art rather than finance.
Digital art was devalued in the past because it lacked a native system of recognition and ownership. NFTs did not magically solve taste or quality, but they solved that missing layer. Regardless of market cycles, that structural shift remains, and it continues to influence how digital creativity is produced, shared, and understood.
If a painting is created mainly to match a luxurious interior rather than to express something deeply personal or challenge ideas, then it leans more toward decorative art, even if it’s technically a painting. It becomes part of the decor rather than a standalone statement.
That raises an interesting question—does the intent of the artist or the way the artwork is used define whether it’s fine art or decorative art? If someone paints with raw emotion and meaning but it ends up as a luxury wall piece, does that change what it is?
Especially with modern abstract painting—it’s everywhere in high-end homes, hotels, and corporate spaces. A lot of it seems designed to be aesthetically pleasing but not too thought-provoking, so it blends into the environment rather than demanding attention. It feels like abstraction has been commercialized into a luxury good rather than a form of deep expression, at least in many cases.
Of course, that doesn’t mean all abstract art today is purely decorative. There are still artists pushing boundaries and using abstraction in meaningful ways. But a lot of what sells seems to be more about fitting a vibe than saying something.
You are what you hate. What you hate says a lot about who you are and what you value. _ The response in the body when we dislike someone
In order to understand what happens in your body when you dislike someone, you can start by trying to understand #fear. As Robert Sapolsky writes in “Why Your Brain Hates Other People,” when we see someone who even looks different from us, “there is preferential activation of the amygdala,” which means the brain region associated with fear and aggression flares up. This visceral, emotional reaction can spark a long-term pattern of dislike when it’s validated by action: if you perceive that someone has hurt you, your fear of them becomes rational.
Our negative feelings toward someone get stronger as bad experiences with them pile up, and these negative thoughts trigger the fight-or-flight response in our bodies. As AJ Marsden, assistant professor of Psychology at Beacon College in Leesburg, Florida, puts it, “our fight-or-flight response is our bodies way of dealing with a stressor.” ⠀ Stressors that trigger fight-or-flight need not be life or death, though, says Marsden: “Sadly, our body cannot tell the difference between an actual stressor (being chased by someone with a knife) and a perceived stressor (having work with someone you hate).” This is why seeing posts from your high school bully can make you feel the anxiety of being bullied all over again: your fearful associations with disliking the person trigger your own need to protect yourself. ⠀ Source: headspace.com
Art Series: The Middle Finger #Organic T-Shirt.
Both physical and NFT items are now available in our store.
“According to reports from Cointelegraph citing CoinGecko, the total NFT market capitalization stood at just $2.5 billion in December, representing a 72 % collapse from the January peak of $9.2 billion. Weekly NFT sales remained below $70 million, while the number of unique buyers and active sellers dropped sharply, indicating a loss of momentum across the entire ecosystem.” — Analysis Blockchain / Bitcoin World
