"Can you remember the moment you
decided art was your love and noth-
ing would change that?"
Question lately posed at a blog
I read, then withdrawn.
I did not answer that question, because I never have felt about art, that way; but I can remember heroes, and who can't. They came from art and they came very early, and as art does, they came numerously. Art taught me discernment before discernment taught me art, and these things I learned to keep to myself, and bring out largely in dreams. It was in consciousness that I found, art would not be my love but would be my friend. This (if you like) decision taught me the stature in that word, which is the largest.
That is one answerless question to me. I don't know if I lack accurate events to describe it -which I am not convinced of- or more over the way art is involved in my life ...
ReplyDeleteNonetheless, I would be able to tell how much the art of others is involved into my life. Meanwhile, it's hard to define how "art would be one's love", I don't know if the artist himself would say so with that much persuasion.
When we find love... we are never able to put a name/brand/label on it... it is just love.
I even think that when art is one's love... he would assume it is his whole life... far from him to know it actually is the love of his life...
art makes the choice, not the other way 'round.
ReplyDeleteit is borne of the bone, and brings solace and comfort in the same way that love does.
it is always there, waiting to be conjured.
it is mystery itself, called forth from ether and air and dust, blue sea and peerless sky.
it comes quickest and fastest when love is in the air, or when love has disappeared.
it is always available, next to the muse that conjures it, and there is no way to know it ever, or predict it, or hold it accountable...
i
I am in love with these lines above.
ReplyDelete