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Ken Crost's Art Blog

This is not merely a blog. It is a threshold. Here, the arts converge—painting and poetry, music and movement, image and silence. Each form is a vessel, each gesture a summons.

Art is not decoration; it is revelation. Music is not background; it is the pulse of time itself. Literature is not escape; it is inscription, the carving of wounds and wonders into language. Dance is not spectacle; it is the body remembering its ancient covenant with the earth.

To enter here is to consent to encounter. To be unsettled, to be consoled, to be transformed. The question is not what is art? but what is art doing to you, now, in this breath, in this body?

This space is consecrated to that dialogue—between artist and witness, between soma and spirit, between the fragile present and the eternal.

From the first algorithmic sketches of the 1960s to today’s immersive worlds and AI‑generated visions, digital art has continually redefined what creativity can be. This brief history traces its evolution through code, screens, the internet, and beyond—showing how each era reshaped the relationship between imagination and technology.

A Short History of Digital Art - 11/3/2025

From the first algorithmic sketches of the 1960s to today’s immersive worlds and AI‑generated visions, digital art has continually redefined what creativity can be. This brief history traces its evolution through code, screens, the internet, and beyond—showing how each era reshaped the relationship between imagination and technology.

Art resists easy definition. It slips between categories, unsettles our expectations, and insists on being felt as much as understood. For some, it is beauty; for others, disruption. For me, it begins with a simple conviction: almost anything can be art, and what we call “good” is never fixed but always subjective. This post is an opening meditation—an invitation to consider not only what art is, but what it does to us in body, mind, and spirit.

What Is Art? - 10/30/2025

Art resists easy definition. It slips between categories, unsettles our expectations, and insists on being felt as much as understood. For some, it is beauty; for others, disruption. For me, it begins with a simple conviction: almost anything can be art, and what we call “good” is never fixed but always subjective. This post is an opening meditation—an invitation to consider not only what art is, but what it does to us in body, mind, and spirit.

When a face slips into distortion, it becomes more than a likeness—it becomes a mask, a mirror, a fragment of memory. These portraits don’t just show us others; they reveal what we might see in ourselves.

Distortion and Identity - 10/08/2025

When a face slips into distortion, it becomes more than a likeness—it becomes a mask, a mirror, a fragment of memory. These portraits don’t just show us others; they reveal what we might see in ourselves.

In a world chasing perfection and polish, I turn toward the beauty of the unknown. Abstraction opens a space where emotion can breathe without instruction, where ambiguity becomes possibility. Each work is less about control than about discovery—a reminder that art, like life, is richest when it resists certainty. These shifting forms don’t mirror fracture; they mirror resilience, imagination, and the endless ways we find meaning together.

The Beauty of the Unknown - 10/01/2025

In a world chasing perfection and polish, I turn toward the beauty of the unknown. Abstraction opens a space where emotion can breathe without instruction, where ambiguity becomes possibility. Each work is less about control than about discovery—a reminder that art, like life, is richest when it resists certainty. These shifting forms don’t mirror fracture; they mirror resilience, imagination, and the endless ways we find meaning together.

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