In our evolutionary transformation from genocidal ape to empathic humanitarian, it makes sense that aggression is a vital ingredient of passion in all its forms, in all the ways art seeks to bring us to love.
As Aristotle alluded to, as is spoken of in "Nicomachean Ethics," when science and the arts are made subordinate to another aim such as military or money, it fundamentally alters them and changes their results and nature, moving from healthy diversity of discovery to a funnelled narrow view. Yet the sciences and the arts are born out of a feeling of goodness, "The good is that at which all things aim."
True art is channelled through the loving heart, guided by emotions that stir the soul to loving bonds and the sort of imagination that is free and child-like in its sense of wonder and joy. Art is not a technical skill, not one that can be aped by those cold within, yet it can be a path they can take to resuscitate the love they were born with and learn to be brave enough to reconnect with their soul.
This art it pours out of me, as if my heart wishes to sing all day and all night. It is such a chatterbox, this heart of mine. It dances in the words as if it were performing a ballet, loving each tiny movement. It comes as a river, often gentle, yet with a flow that appears to have a sense of where it is going. It comes to be born rather than moulded, to show itself for what it is. It is a lot of me and a lot of divine inspiration, or that is how I see it when the artist truly loves, when the art is the proof of the loving heart.
Our art is our joy, our god-given pathway for natural healing. It is not a thing to judge or measure by imaginary yard-sticks. It is the seeds of our minds that grow and help us navigate our way toward happiness and health. It is our right to be as free as the wind and the bird who plays on the wing. Pain may come out in a painting, or the toll on our being be told in a story, dancing and weaving in the metaphors of dreams. Or it may come as fluid movements that are a song of emotions. Yet this is how the mind unites and creativity becomes a bonfire to illuminate our way.
Art is part of our human soul. It is dreams emerging from a part of ourselves, a way to communicate with the deeper self of both the artist and others. The same piece invokes different emotions depending on the person, their mood, their time of life. Art is pictures; art is sculpture; art is the creative word; art is music. We are all artists in our various ways, all born to be creative.
Our creativity brings our dreams to life; inspiring, enchanting, bringing us closer to God. In art our spirits rise, in stories we are enthralled and elevated. With creativity we make connections between disparate people, we learn that through our many lenses we are seeing the same whole, only the path before our feet is still blurred. Life should never be art vs science, but a beautiful marriage of the two.
The art is coloured glass sculpted by high power water jet, then formed into a mosaic that invites the curiosity of the mind. The flowing blues and greens could be so many things, perhaps like a fading dream it is what you want it to be. For me it is fish in cool waters, swimming freely in their own salty utopia. Maybe that's because I'd love to dive right in with them and feel the soft currents moving past my skin, my hair moving like deep brown kelp. I get lost every time my eyes fall on this piece, it's a place to escape into without leaving these walls, a brief retreat without the massage and pedicures.