May 19, 2025
HiSS: THE SOUND OF SNAKE
HISS: THE SOUND OF SNAKE
HiSS
Hide Silver Snake
If the artist puts himself at the service of the work, it is in that gesture of dedication that the real alchemy happens.
An unperceivable boundary dissolves and the work breathes through the artist, who becomes not only its medium but its incarnation.
It is then that creation lives a life of its own, yet is inseparable from its creator.
Beyond the Mirror: the artist as a servant of ART.
This urge to show off-is it really worth it?
Instagram as a confessional, TikTok a stage of the self, showcase of your supposed geniality.
Ink gives way to selfie, plot to narration.
The author, digital cannon fodder, is a special offer between a pathetic filter and a hashtag begging for attention.
“Self-promotion: digital narcissism,” the compulsive display of the ephemeral.
You have to perform, tell your business, your quirks, even what you eat for breakfast (who cares exactly??)
The author no longer writes: he sells out. In fact, he sells out.
Do we really trade mystery for the obvious?
Some people like to provoke at any cost.
But how many times has the noise of his exaggerated, redundant, fucked-up outbursts and looks covered the music? (Which in some cases is not such a bad thing!).
Some people set the stage on fire, screaming for existence.
But doesn't that deafening noise drown out true music?
And who had donated stories as delicate as whispers, almost shy. Then, TV, the overpaid expert role, the constant presence.
And that music caged in the echo of a cumbersome, deafening image.
Instead, who chose the shadow?
A name, no face.
And so his stories became everyone's, universal, freed from the weight of a definite identity.
Just words dancing on the page, notes on the score.
Some have denied themselves for a lifetime, yet their pages still burn.
To expose oneself is a dangerous gamble.
Too many people, far from their art, reveal their own inconsistency
And if the system really asks you for a face, do as the wise old men do: invent a mask that says more than your real face.
A sharp pseudonym, an identity, not a profile full of filters.
Because, let's face it without hypocrisy: if your novel or music really has guts, your face is just a nuisance.
And if it doesn't have them, well, better not add your out-of-tune voice to the chorus.
Let's go beyond the mirror!!!
Art has no face, just as a river needs no name to flow powerfully.
The artist? Humble servant of a greater entity: the work.
The real celebrity is not the artist, but the naked emotion that art arouses.
Art celebrates the sacred mystery of creation, therefore it remains immortal.
From this need, HiSS takes shape. SilverSnake Michelle's sound shadow.
