Artheism is a return to the unconventional wisdom of illogical formations. For the artheist, a myth has more texture than an axiom, a monster is more palpable than a portrait and an anti-formation or deformation is more original than a polished figure.
Artheism rejects the conventional existence of external objects. It is an unconscious exercise in destruction and a conscious desire to be intellectually erected. Destroying that which blocks the artheist’s line of sight defines his/her creativity; such ferocious negative energy honing in on a positive result is the mode and mood of an artheist.
Artheism cannot tolerate the external world. Forms begin to exist only when uttered or drawn. Nothing in the world of artheism comes from outside; there is no outside in the artheist’s self-centered world.
artheist, when I create, I don’t unleash an internal energy; I simply burn myself to power my creation. I am entirely egocentric when I paint, benefiting each time the world attends to my self-consuming passion.
This process of destroying in order to create is unconscious; I cannot connive to destroy that which I do not know. The artheist can but destroy everything along his way, understanding that nothing stands in his way except himself. However, an artheist is no longer sane, should he consciously decide about a particular aspect of himself which he intends to destroy. Such edition in the name of sanity is the work of priests and politicians, rather than the
artheist. The artheist is insane, and perceives sanity as a bureaucratic aberration.
An artheist cannot befriend language. He distrusts grammar and etymology, structure and history. The whole purpose of his activity is to dislodge such constructs and to pave the way for a new form of expression with neither rules nor roots. The unconscious, his most beloved language, is trusted not because of its rules but because he ignores what drives it.
For the artheist, destruction is unconscious because that which is conscious is already obsolete. Even if truth exists an artheist would not know it, for he would willingly destroy it on his way. The more the artheist knows, the less he creates; that is the void felt and left after each act of destruction in which the artheist wallows and rejoices.
What is the point, then, in creating? The canvas is a mirror. Share it if you wish, but you must hold it in front of yourself in order for others to see you. Artheism is my intention, though I haven’t reached it. If you can see more than what I intend to show you, then you are on the path to
artheism. It is time for you to hold a brush and to destroy your fears.