Art applied to Aestheticism


By Millicent Anderson

Art and words, I live for those two things. They keep my lungs inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide. If you want to get technical, all credit goes to the alveoli. When I say art, not only do I mean the kind that’s stroked on paper by great artists; I am also referring to all art of this world, as well as the afterlife. We are all artists in our own ways, and mold ourselves as we exist and live. As for the words, words are everything. Imagine a world without words; it would seem enormously incoherent. Yet, just think of the abstract beauty you would find without relying on those words. Art speaks what words cannot express, words give what art cannot articulate. People will say what they like, and opinions will vary depending on the person. Some will harass you more than radiating heat on a sunny day. An obstinate person is stronger and more fully of faculty than one would think. It has its benefits, yet it will always leave a streak of regrets behind. It’s a pity that humans have to be such a vast influence on others. I think the reason why we tend to fall in love with the things we know nothing of is because we become blinded by their faults and rigidness. I’ve learned that the very core of beauty is imperfection. Perfection poisons what imperfection can nurture. This leaves us no choice but to desperately fall out of love with all perfection a in order for us to develop. I don’t want people to be afraid to show me their imperfections, that is exactly what I want to see. I only wish that the prospects of my appearance would be nothing but imperfection and humility intermingled with vitality. I believe in naturalism; such as a tree and it’s branches will never manifest perfect harmony with the next you encounter. I yearn for individuality. Don’t let someone else’s train of thought decay your own. I feel like there’s too many judgmental intellects in this world, I don’t wish to be set under that category. The majority of the time, their words mean nothing to me. I should think that art is a human attempt to share feelings with one another. For some of us mere mortals, there are things we cannot express in words, only art. I will not end there, I have more to say. Art can be just as dull as waiting for paint to dry on an old door — if the artist has not poured all worth and essence into it. I’ve seen plenty of art that has potential, but no vitality. What good is art if it does not profit the artist nor the observer? It profits no one, and does no good. Art cannot simply be defined in two or three definitions. It is ambiguous in the best of ways. It has numerous definitions and can express numerous unspoken words. Everyone sees it differently. If you had someone look at a painting of Van Gogh’s, for example, and another look at it from the same view, those two observers may see completely different things. Perhaps, a million and one emotions flood through the second observer’s mind, while the first may only think of one perpetual thing. That’s the ethics of art, and the ethics of great artists visualizing something intellectually and making it visible for the mass of humanity to see. Art is for expressing ones’ emotions; art cannot be dull. Art is never dull, though I believe the blank sheet can ‘feel’ when you’re not trying. It can ‘feel’ when you’re not leaking out your core and spilling the whole lot on the page. It’s then that you find yourself visualized by the naked eye. You find yourself, art find its maker. And to end my thoughts on the subject, I believe all art so beautiful — so long as it has soul and realism. That kind of art is what will speak to the people.

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