Tag: Art

Philosophy Series – “Of Art” – Pt. 2 – 8/21/2021

“It is unity that portrays the repetition of educational experiences. Wisdom must be passed in the direction of creation, so as not to end order into chaos. It is unity that then portrays itself in what should not be distorted of either portrait or landscape into something less than recognizable. A face that can be mirrored by a reality or the landscape that were always one’s surroundings should not be mutilated nor burned for the simple sake of the ignorance that is against unity.”

– Modern Romanticism

While art can be said to be anything, it is with ease that this could be told. If art, an anything, then it is a deceptive nothingness. If to be “any” could be similar to what is “any” source for perhaps the essay, then it may as well be deception. Any and all, the references to deception, are so in that nothing specific could come by this.

Continue reading Philosophy Series – “Of Art” – Pt. 2 – 8/21/2021

Philosophy Series – “Of Art” – Pt. 1 – 7/30/2021

“Art can be recognized as truthful. If not art so visually appealing, then its role becomes one of function. Function, by itself, cannot be sustained, as it eventually dies alongside the artist. Would art be eternal, then it remains truthful. Would art be truthful, then its creator, its artist, its mother can die, with much ease, that the creation will live on.”

– Modern Romanticism

Recognize art as truthful, not deceitful. To perceive art as subjective, as interpretable to the viewer of “any”, it becomes broken down. Breaking down meaning will conform itself to “any” source of judgement, that could be nothing in reference to truth. Since “any” source would not be questioned, it becomes then the interpretation unable to be subjected. What means to subject, is same to deconstruct. The interpretation to the art, therefore, cannot be dismantled. Though, the art was, rendering the miniature piece, the interpretation, as the deception.

Corruption is compelled to be witnessed as the act of uplifting poverty. It is not poverty that should be raised, though the impoverished. Those individuals so impoverished, as it is truthful art that would elevate them. To elevate poverty is to call ugliness as beautiful. This is corruption, much as how artwork so diminished of quality is a mere function to monetary gain. Would one find ugliness as beautiful, then the same individual could perhaps find contentment in spending an ungodly sum on table scraps for their meal.

It is untruthful art, deceitful works, that were subjected to the rule of an opinion. Would just any viewer interpret it, mostly from the uneducated mind, a breakdown process to the objectivism within truthful art causes the chaos. Would an impoverished individual recognize themselves in it, then their awareness to their world to the artwork’s own becomes matched.

Creation unto causation, is the act of disordering order into chaos. If order is among creation, then chaos is among causation, making what is beautiful as ordered and truthful. Beauty is ordered, because it cannot be destroyed. It is protected, much like how a mother guards her children.

Chaos is caused, as it cannot be created. None can create what is chaotic, meaning that untruthful art cannot be art.

What is meant as a function is not art, since eternity cannot be subjected into limitation. It is then an impossible feat to subject the eternity of art, without replacing it with what art is not.

Art is the eternal. The artist dies to just then be recognized for their creations, in the same manner as wisdom is passed down to offspring.

Philosophy – “Why Post-Modernism Causes Poverty” – 4/15/2021

“That which is beautiful cannot be seen for the grime in what is impoverished. An abstraction can be to such a word, in being impoverished, though to be simply lacking. As poverty has its meaning upon what is lost, then beauty will be for what is gained.”

– Modern Romanticism

Post-Modernism has comprehended one thing: that the greater to be practical overcomes what is ever only deemed as beautiful. Yet, it is never the preservation of a creation, relating so much to life and to truth, that whatever is hideous will ever be. To the things only ever deemed as useful, their preservation shall come as limited. Would we treat life this way? Are we to treat all creation in this manner, even of art to the abandoned child?

We cannot treat art as any different than life. Both are creations. To either’s preservation, we are not meant to comprehend the useful or practical as needed for its extension. How do we preserve the food? We do, until it is eaten. How do we preserve life? It is by sacrificing what is meant to disappear, being the material.

From the immaterial to the material, there is art or creation for the former and there is the useful or the practical for the latter. Neither art, nor life, nor truth is meant to be confused as material. It is forever. If buried, then it is alive beneath the figurative earth.

It is the beautiful that is meant to be preserved, relating to life. Beautiful life does not compare to hideous death, nor the trampled impoverished. The impoverished are hideous, as that is just one bitter truth. No matter the taste, one must swallow all meaning to truth. For that is because it is the sweet sort of medicines that resonate as deception, not truth.

Being beautiful, one has lived. One has ascended past poverty. In truth, a comprehension for life not being among the dust, and then one has made themselves beautiful and whole in awareness.

If not Post-Modernism, then love.

If Post-Modernism, then let decay.

Philosophy – “Of Art, Realism versus the Artistic” – 12/29/2020

“Some might repeat that art should remain as is, and they’d be right, if no artist was ever deceived by the idea that ‘realism’ should take more prominence on the canvas, over their surroundings.”

– Modern Romanticism

Hyper-realism, in art, possesses no “art” of itself, due to that such paintings of such realism attempt to mimic reality. Even a photograph can only become so “realistic” to the point where a limit is soon discovered. This makes the “artistic” become something so unlimited in its diversity. It makes the “realistic” become limited in what can be created from it. In fact, realism is limited to being a singular in style. Realism cannot be diversified.

An artist is the perfection, as a creator to art, though imperfect with what they’ve personally perceived, or understood, can be mimicked or replicated upon the canvas.

Individualism represents the artist, making nothing of itself able to be criticized nor corrected. How can one better their style of art, to even one’s own comprehension to who they are at their core, without all crumbling?

One can only step into another style of art, so that empathy is lived through the artist to understand another walk of life. To reveal the most realism upon the canvas would never compete with neither the photograph, nor the other artist’s hyper-realism upon their own canvas. How can realism compete with realism, if not becoming one entire painting, or one entire depiction?

As an artist steps into another style of art, they jump into another skin, and thus, become not something more, though something else. Their depiction for what is empathized with, soon becomes the portrayal upon the canvas. In this case, the “canvas” represents the repeated process of imperfection, in the same sense as a child is born.

This is an artist’s way of empathizing with something not so realistic, being of others, revealed as distortion upon the canvas. Mimicking something imperfect is a way for an artist to understand all that is possible to be perceived, or taken in direct relation. Though, it is never to the direct relation for the artist, being perfect, as much as it is more for an artist to simply replicate the distortion of what is understood. This is how an artist understands art, as art. It is a way for an artist to mimic what is seen of others, of surroundings, being of people’s imperfections, and their creation’s imperfections. As individualism cannot be corrected, it is then through unification that an artist has another color upon their palette.

And, as an artist gains inspiration from other art, it is all the same. Though, is it ever possible for an artist to become inspired at something depicted as “hyper-realistic” for the canvas?

Even of the world, of creations done by human hands, such are the imperfections than an artist mimics through a variation of styles. Though, what style is perfection? There is none, by that simply mimicking what is realistic, will halt the empathy for any imperfection meant to be repeated. Such only ever dries the cycle of empathy unto art. It is due to perfection being unable to be perceived nor understood, that any hint of it will not allow the empathy from an artist to see any “depth” to such realism.

Philosophy – “Why Certain Sorts Praise Hitler… beyond the Grave” – 12/20/2020

“Why does any artist receive their fame, soon as they’ve escaped this world, through the grave, now dead? It is in us always considering creation, before causation, that we say to even an evil artist, that when they’re dead, they can no longer cause others to be dead. It is to creation, that makes the living person a shocking symptom of truth, because when they die, truth is all to be seen.”

– Modern Romanticism

Art.

Creation.

And, causation.

Art is only ever creation, as creation is from the artist and is also themselves. Upon the death of life, of creation, we see only what was made, by the once-living, by the artist. Sculpted about us in varying intricacies, being only what is able to become seen by remaining life, by the remaining viewers.

Art objectively does not stand for chaos, unless materialism is to the living artist’s motto, and never to the soul of themselves depicted in their work.

Under chaos, art works as numbers, praising the death of others, praising the death of life, of objectivism in truth. By this, art that causes, or speaks for itself on causation, kills originalism by way of the roots. Therefore, art that cites itself on numbers, kills the universal away.

Hitler, having killed, was an artist of the latter sort. Yet, by his death, we see only his very creations. It is by the death of anything, that we see the good of what died, by our remembrances to their once-living selves. We forgive the life that died, knowing our criticism cannot extend to the death of a life to become better, for it is now too late.

Forgiveness acts upon faith, comprehending to life that it will be better, keeping our trust up in that regard. If Hitler is said to be a genius, it was only due to an inevitability of life’s psychological understanding of itself, of life understanding life, and of life comprehending truth. Each thing of truth, is life, is what decays, and soon to become the enemy of chaos. For chaos is against life. Chaos is for death. Chaos is for the decay of truth, into sheer deception, that the garden of Eden might appear autumnal so that everything falls, with beginnings into endings.

We forgive the life that died, inevitably so, that we understand Hitler to have been the evil artist, becoming forgiven for the sake of our awareness to truth. That truth? It is the truth of what remaining life metaphysically pulls from the metaphysical realm, being of goodness, no matter how small. Even of the monster, we pull from memories, never the badness that would equate to chaos or causation. We simply do not remember death, by death. We remember life, by death. Therefore, we do not remember what Hitler caused, though by what he created, simply by recognizing humanity that it was buried under the pressure of its own guilt.

It is there to be known for why we remember life, being the same reason that we remember art. It is that we remember what remains, being of surrounding life, being of the once-living’s existence that still lingers. In this, we grieve even for monsters.

Philosophy – “Why Art should Touch on the Internal, over the External” – 12/6/2020

“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.

Quote – “The Artist’s Failure” – 12/1/2020

“An artist should accept failure, not make explanations which would translate to excuses. Even an ordinary person, who has failed in their attempt to make something better of themselves, inevitably accepts the failure. Whether to ‘make better’ as a person, or for an artist to better their own skills, there must be acceptance for failure, until success is achieved.”

– Modern Romanticism

Philosophy – “Why an Artist should not Explain their Work” – 12/1/2020

“Meaning. As a word, it should explain itself.”

– Modern Romanticism

Art has meaning. It has meaning within meaning. It has layers of its own meaning. Each layer descends atop the previous one, just as clothing for a woman might be removed to reveal the beautiful and vulnerable sculpture beneath.

Peel back the layers, and one sees truth. Yet, it should be done, immediately. Why must an artist need to explain meaning? Upon when a viewer becomes confused to the “message” behind a work, why should someone else, even the artist, explain it, to remedy the confusion? If such becomes the case, then the artist has failed is their attempt to make meaning universal. They’ve become among the arrogant of this world, believing their meaning to be “specific” to them, rather than creating art that can connect. For it is only the narcissist who sees their reflection in its specific shape, not ever daring to see another’s.

Art is never narcissistic, never egotistical, never selective upon who is considered to matter, when it connects through what has depth. Of depth, there is meaning. Among everything meaningful, we are each meant to see ourselves, as humans, as all vulnerable, as all bared to the reflection that might be the painted canvas, before us.

Though, if the artist too much sought to make specifics, and did not implement enough meaning so universal, they will indeed attempt to explain their work. Though, such an explanation will only arrive upon a viewer’s noticeable confusion, to the art.

It can only be that this confusion results, or originates, from the innate function of a human brain that is actually questioning the art for why it is not universal. For it must be that, in their confusion, to see the art as not being “universal”, is the same to say the work is not human. As in, to connect, for connection could only ever be artistic and universal.

Why else would a viewer to art question it, if the very act of being confused is not for segregation’s sake? One can easily imagine the artist pulling the confused viewer to a quiet room, to privately explain the work, in greater detail. Though, why couldn’t the art, itself, do the explaining?

To imagine if a Comedian told a terrible joke, to the reacted confusion of their viewers for what was said, might result in further explanation for clarity’s sake. By then, the humor has dried up, and the Comedian has met failure.

“Connection” would be the implement of a Comedian to make their entire audience laugh. If there are those who did not find the Comedian’s jokes to be humorous, to then begin scorning them, it could only be that such listeners are searching for specifics by way of humor. The “specifics” aspect of this, is all to know the difference between a representation of something certain, to a representation of something universal.

Philosophy – “Why Diversity cannot be Forced” – 11/29/2020

“The importance of diversity is in its expression, of language. Yet, can art be forced, without the burnout of the soul? Must extreme measures be taken for the person of their language to force truth forward? Forcing diversity seems to be what makes the torturous interrogator.”

– Modern Romanticism

Forcing truth, to the surface of one’s own esophagus, is to eject diversity without its naturalism.

We are not intimate with ourselves, with what we express, with what we feel, when another means to place us “on the spot”. For those who force diversity are also people who mean to humiliate. They are the psychopaths, the extractors, and those who wish for truth to be regurgitated.

Examples of truth, of all diversity, is to the ideas of it, spoken next for speech’s sake, then made tangible and physical.

We love truth, for we trust it. We cannot love God, for we cannot care for Him. Yet, we can love God’s words, as we are silent in our attentiveness. Though, to Creation so natural as a spawned life from a womb, we cannot force without resorting to a philosophy that pertains to the inhuman. Whether inhuman or psychopathic, the “interrogator mentality” is the abomination meant to be purged without diversity for what kills.

It takes no special instrument to slay, though to extract truth? That requires genius.

Yet, it requires an equal amount of genius, not of the evil and malicious intent, to create truth. It is of example, of Creation, that truth is made. For we do not force it, when it is made, anymore than a mother must force her child out of her, during labor. Anymore than a husband rapes his wife, out of force, to impregnate her, would make the diversity; because, it will not.

Diversity is always a creation, born as an example unto it. Artists do not force it out, anymore than creativity can be turned on like a faucet.

Quote – “To Inspiration’s Coming” – 11/7/2020

“I reckon it’s the same as sleep, that to wait for it, with deliberate intent, makes it never arrive. How can patience be the thing for a dream, for a reality in the making of art, when it recreates itself into frustration? Believing ourselves to be Creators, will always make the waiting kind, when we can simply undertake what is meant to be done. For a dream can only ever be an illusion, an ideal only ever itself, never to become the corporeal reality when all we do is wait.”

– Modern Romanticism