What is art?It is always associated with imagination, abstract and also beauty. It is an expression duct for many people. Art, in its own unique way, can contain some messages, feeling, or it simply depicts beauty. Some are even surreal.
It’s difficult to describe what art is.
Some love it, some are adept in it, some criticize it, many appreciate it.
Art has found its place in every human’s heart in a very special way. Some come in calmness (e.g. classical music), some come in din (e.g. rock music). Some come in quirkiness (e.g. cubism), some come in honesty (e.g. expressionism). Some come in distinct lines (e.g. cartoon) some come in delicate blend of colors (e.g. impressionism). Some exude iridescence, some are simply monochromatic.
For me, art is a form of translation of life. Life itself is abstract and a lot of things happen within which; happiness, sadness, love, broken heart, etc. Different faces, millions of dreams and uncountable love. Art comes into the picture to depict it. It comes when mere prosaic words refused to describe.
More importantly, I always see art as the most honest personal identity, an honorable autobiography. Every piece of art is singular, no two persons can draw the same strokes, create the same piece of music, the same stanza in poems, the same tragedy in elegies, the same humor in comedies, the same story in drama.
Therefore, art stems from reality, depicted in our own unmatched individualism and permeating our very own identity and its beauty enthralls some others. Isn’t it wonderful?
One thing about art that’s similar to love: when you like a certain piece of art, would you be able to precisely describe why you do? You will just be carried away by it and the next thing you know, you enjoy it and you like it. Isn’t it the same when you love someone? I guess it’s just what honest feeling and beauty can do to your life, especially when they join their hands together.
Humbly, I would say, art is the only allowable egocentrism on earth…
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