Painter's Agony
10:55 PM |
| Beyond Madness |
“The way out is through the door. Why is it that no one will use this method?”
~ Confucius
I never learned painting. And then a day came when I was told, that I must learn the art of painting. Understand the rules and the properties of colours, so that I can express accordingly. There are as many colours as our soul seek to explore. But the world believed that there are just a few established ways to arrange them on a canvas. Scholars were sought, so were the books that I referred. Yet, art eluded me this time. I painted yet couldn't sense the urge to continue or feel the liberation with the final stroke of the brush. Art becomes a commodity created to be consumed within a given time. Just like the bottles of wine, manufactured within a week. Without the seasoned thoughts that evolve out of ecstasy of passion, art seems to elude the essence that must be savored. For a mad man, art is something that lies beyond reality and before a dream. Beyond its physical state, it is a state of mind that is formless yet seeking refuge from reality. For a painter, colours does not depict emotions. They are expressions that cannot be expressed. When mind is forced to travel beyond the threshold of pain, all it passes through is art.
Colours fill the transcended space that is left empty in the mind of the artist. Trying to seek meanings within the spaces that was left empty for emotions to occupy. And these spaces remain empty and that is the core reason why an artist creates art. Artists liberate themselves through expressions. As I met the scholars who screamed names and principles to conquer the realms of immortality, there was a man staring at the horizon at the distance. His thoughts could not be comprehended. He saw a world that never passed though words. Absinthe and cigarettes in his breath his eyes reflected beauty beyond words could explain. He wanted to share that beauty he perceived. He wanted to be loved in the mirth of that beauty. Yet all he could experience was pain. Orange and yellow impasto brought the canvas back to life. From him I learnt that art is expressing what my mind can scream yet the world is incapable of listening. Yes, to explore empty spaces and to fill them with life. A passion in which one has nothing to prove to the world or to claim dominance. Beyond the organized courses in Universities and Doctoral research, there exists a world. A world beyond reality and logic. Madness brings us back in life when our hands are chained by the agony of reality. And from that madness will rise humanity that will understand the pulse of nature. And from nature we will enjoy art and give up our pursuit to prove and understand art. Because, if a soul could be understood, it's expression through art is futile.
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