(no subject)
i feel that art is born in life. all of life's experiences, and most notably those difficult ones, should help develop an aesthetic beauty that is worthy of trying to convey. my recent experiences with love, beauty and betrayal are all grand in the grandest sense of the word. to waste those experiences by not creating something beautiful in their place would be irresponsible and wrong. and so here is my feeble attempt at allegory--allegory that reflects my love, my labor and then the betrayal of that love. this has all helped me to see a much larger and more important story of love, labor and betrayal: one which i think most of you will see quite clearly.
The artisan sat quietly. His gaze rested on the mound of clay which leaned before him. In that earthen mess there was potential. There were great and powerful possibilities that one could just barely spy in the artist's face. He leaned forward and began to speak subtly, quietly, peacefully. Along with those words he began to form the clay with such ease and facility that his speech seemed to do all the work. Every plane, curve and crevasse that he formed was consonant with himself--there was not a decision or word that he spoke which did not resonate with his entire being. It was this passion and devotion that surrounded him as he worked. The air was clear and expectant. This was the beginning of a new chapter for all the world.
After some time, the craftsman sat facing his creation. Out of the mud heap there was now something very beautiful. It bore a likeness to the sculptor that seemed intentional but incomplete. He observed it warmly and meticulously examined every bit of it, to ensure it had no fault. Once the artist was satisfied with his masterwork, he brought it to a beautiful place. There were fields of green and trees that bore fruit and flowers that all complimented the artist's prized work. He looked upon this beautiful scene and decided it required one thing. He breathed in and then out slowly, peacefully awaiting the consummation of all his efforts.
The clay figure came to life and the artisan was overjoyed. The fruition of all that he had hoped for had come and the depth of the craftsman's love could not be fathomed. He had the ability to provide all that this man would ever need and there was nothing that could stop it. In the veins of this creature flowed the blood of life, life ushered in truth, life that could not be extinguished. As time passed, the man and his creator grew to love each other very much. They were not one in the same, but they bore a likeness in speech and appearance that helped them grow close. The man was given all that he could ever desire and more. The artisan's love for his creation grew with each passing day. He showed his affection by giving the man more gifts than he could ask for. Life was full for the both of them and all was good in the world.
Beyond the limits of the land given to the man there were other places. There were darker places where others worked to see their ends accomplished as well. Those places were foreign to the man. His sculptor had spoken of those others and their wickedness and had told the man to stay away. All that the man could ever desire could be found here--but worse things roamed in the far lands. The artisan had told the man he was a beautiful work of art that he loved completely and that it was too dangerous to explore those dark places. And so the man stayed close to his master's side for a time.
To be continued...
The artisan sat quietly. His gaze rested on the mound of clay which leaned before him. In that earthen mess there was potential. There were great and powerful possibilities that one could just barely spy in the artist's face. He leaned forward and began to speak subtly, quietly, peacefully. Along with those words he began to form the clay with such ease and facility that his speech seemed to do all the work. Every plane, curve and crevasse that he formed was consonant with himself--there was not a decision or word that he spoke which did not resonate with his entire being. It was this passion and devotion that surrounded him as he worked. The air was clear and expectant. This was the beginning of a new chapter for all the world.
After some time, the craftsman sat facing his creation. Out of the mud heap there was now something very beautiful. It bore a likeness to the sculptor that seemed intentional but incomplete. He observed it warmly and meticulously examined every bit of it, to ensure it had no fault. Once the artist was satisfied with his masterwork, he brought it to a beautiful place. There were fields of green and trees that bore fruit and flowers that all complimented the artist's prized work. He looked upon this beautiful scene and decided it required one thing. He breathed in and then out slowly, peacefully awaiting the consummation of all his efforts.
The clay figure came to life and the artisan was overjoyed. The fruition of all that he had hoped for had come and the depth of the craftsman's love could not be fathomed. He had the ability to provide all that this man would ever need and there was nothing that could stop it. In the veins of this creature flowed the blood of life, life ushered in truth, life that could not be extinguished. As time passed, the man and his creator grew to love each other very much. They were not one in the same, but they bore a likeness in speech and appearance that helped them grow close. The man was given all that he could ever desire and more. The artisan's love for his creation grew with each passing day. He showed his affection by giving the man more gifts than he could ask for. Life was full for the both of them and all was good in the world.
Beyond the limits of the land given to the man there were other places. There were darker places where others worked to see their ends accomplished as well. Those places were foreign to the man. His sculptor had spoken of those others and their wickedness and had told the man to stay away. All that the man could ever desire could be found here--but worse things roamed in the far lands. The artisan had told the man he was a beautiful work of art that he loved completely and that it was too dangerous to explore those dark places. And so the man stayed close to his master's side for a time.
To be continued...