Keith Haring Journals (17 page)

It has been a long time since I have written anything down. A lot of things have happened. So many things that I have been unable to write them. I probably should be keeping a daily diary, however I don’t seem to be able to ever start to write. So today is my [24th] birthday and I am sitting in an airport in Brussels waiting for a flight back to New York. The show in Rotterdam went fine and I also enjoyed Amsterdam. Drawing in the street with chalk in Amsterdam made me realize I can do it anywhere in the world (and with similar results). But, I miss New York and especially Juan [Dubose]. It’s funny, but coming here made me even more glad to be American. Everyone here seems as if they would rather be in America, even if they don’t know much about what it is really like.

In one year my art has taken me to Europe and propelled me into a kind of limelight. Everyone says it’s kind of scary. I mean, the situation. Things tend to get over-hyped and then consumed and placed into a “safe place” (history). I do admit in some ways this does frighten me, but on the other hand: what is the alternative? Elvis must be Elvis. Looking at Willem de Kooning’s ugly new paintings at the show at the Stedelijk frightens me. I would rather die than become that. However where I am now is feeling rather good. I mean in some ways it is the situation I always wanted or always dreamed of. I’m not sure where that dream came from, but it is hard to make it go away once it has started. I think the most important thing is keeping it all in perspective. Knowing that it is up to me what happens next. (And knowing when it is out of my hands.) The one thing (and in the end it was always the only thing) that I have control of is what comes out of me and into the world.

It is hard to control the thing once it has come out and entered the world. But only I can bring it to the world. The world doesn’t want these things and doesn’t need these things, but when they are here, they are here. Their importance all comes from what other people do with them. If these things are put into a situation they add something to it.

Everybody that does these things is adding to situations and adding to the world. Therein lies a kind of responsibility. That responsibility is seen differently by different people who make things in the world. It depends on the “idea of the world” that the person has. Not everyone feels a responsibility to the world. I do not fool myself into thinking that these things I make can change the world or even make a big effect in the world.

People who make wars change things. People who use “control” make things happen in the world. That is not my interest at all. In fact, my “idea of the world” is very simple. My understanding of my place in the world is (I hope) humble and unassuming. I am filled with a certain kind of doubt about my role in the world. But that does not stop me from participating in the world. It only keeps me from expecting something from the world. It seems to me the only thing to do in the world is to “do” something. The “doing” is what the world is. I only do what I always have done when I make things. I don’t know if I ever understood or will ever understand what this thing is or why I do it. But I know from other people who have always done it that it is a “real” thing to do and it seems to stay in the world after it is done. People who drew in caves thousands of years ago made things that are still in the world. The world gets bigger and bigger. People like Jesus Christ have added things to the world that also don’t go away. That is an even bigger responsibility. The things that I make are a very small addition compared to this.

Today I am 24 years old. Twenty-four years is not a very long time, and then again it is enough time. I have added many things to the world. The world is this thing around me that I made for myself and I see for myself. The world will, however, go on without me being there to see it, it just won’t be “my” world then. That is what interests me most about the situation that I am in now. I am making things in the world that won’t go away when I do. If this “success” had not happened, then maybe the world would not know these things after I go away. But now I know, as I am making these things, that they are “real” things, maybe more “real” than me, because they will stay here when I go. In the situation I am in now, I am a vehicle for these “things” I’m bringing into the world. I am not having things and making things and waiting for the world to have them. The world is waiting to have them. At 24, that is maybe a funny feeling. The things that I make are “in” the world as soon as I make them. That is also the situation I always dreamed of (I guess). So that there is a kind of reason for making these things and the “things” in some sense become more important than me. The world is waiting for the things and I am the only one who can bring them these things. There is a kind of freedom in that. There is also a kind of hysteria in that, but it depends how you see the world. I only think that I want to be the one who makes the “things.” I don’t know what I want the world to be. But only I can make these “things.” These things that are called the works of Keith Haring.