In my own limited knowledge
Where do we start? How do we orient ourselves in order to understand art. Let me put forth these words hopelessly in the shallow waters where lives the thousand eyed demon.
History of mankind speaks through sculptures, scriptures and so much more,
Generations inspired by words manoeuvred on stones, leaves and paper.
It’s philosophy lives and dies with the artist but creation is immortal.
Aristotle in ‘On Soul’ designates the body-soul complex as a capacity to be.
Art is the answer to eternal questions asked by scores of enquirers, enquiry is the mat of the absent staircase at end of which awakens the omnipresent and the omnipotent.
Where there exists no ‘I’ there exists ‘Brahm’ or the universal Being and there resides the answer in form of an experience waiting to be experienced, lying in its potential state. The soul is the art while our bodily endeavours are a trigger to that outreach. Outdoing ourselves and releasing ourselves from bindings of space-time, we hear the voice of consciousness in all its glory and astounding innocence. Art defies the concept of a perpetual and absolute.
Seeing the art different from the artist is a must to reflect upon it as an universal capacity to instil enquiry and to negotiate with its true nature in order to interpret it for material wellness of our mind.
What is Art ?
We shall encounter this question again; in pain and pleasure while the answer is as dynamic as the question itself.