“There are many ways to look at the world, to perceive through various arrangements the differing colors we behold. Though, when does a person ever look within themselves, to pull out some embedded pain that they rarely wish to see?”– Modern Romanticism
Of the world, it is in what we have created or caused. Like the world, ourselves show a reflection in a mirror, where we may or may not, or simply not wish to see something too hideous to understand. It is not something we should share love to, for that comes easy. We should share trust to it, for those demons within would become beautiful, when placed upon the canvas, or the page, or anything else, as art.
All hideousness that grows within ourselves, can become the most beautiful spectacles, when released into the expression. For that is how we peacefully empty loads. To make something another person could connect to, extinguishes the burning flame of loneliness. For when we make that kind of art, we are no longer hiding in the darkness of such pain. We have moved ourselves, in the inspiration it took to create it, as we move another person, out of what courage for them it took to look upon it.
There are people who would be proud for their pain, proud for their scars, though these are the sorts who are never able to drop their pride, to release that past into the expression. Into tears, or into a simple artwork, requires no special skill. As it is, love is a talent, making this innate part of ourselves meant to come forth, into the open arms of another individual, for their understanding to it.
Love does not die. Though, trust can. When trust receives the noose, there is distance both from ourselves, then from other people. If art can be that which a person normally does not look upon, due to fear, it can be pure.
Artists will make art based on what is around them. Though, such often enters the realms of the political, the social, and the environmental. Were a human, as an artist, or an artist, as a human, to see within, they’d find something long buried. Looking within, a person can be “deep” with their expression, allowing the embrace to another person, as the viewer or appreciator, to enter a comfort that is, as well, deep. Deep, as to be sunken in the bedsheets after a day’s worth of labor.
Humans hide things, do not reveal their flaws, and conceal their sorrows. We are never beautiful, when we are enclosed. Though, the artist who hides, is not a one, at all. We can make art all about the political, though without creativity nor imagination, involved. Such things, we see every day. Though, when is the day a person will look within, to drag out something they do not wish to see?
It is a coward’s way to follow the word of a politician. It is bravery’s way to follow the word of mouth, as an individual. Having a voice, as an artist, is the only way a person will never separate themselves from another, by means of that external stimuli. They can, in fact, be motivated and inspired by someone to trust, because they’ve closed the gap of their distance to them.