My soul is my art, our souls are art.
I was inspired to write about the idea of putting a part of yourself into your art in the book “The picture of Dorian gray”, a take on any form of art. Hope you enjoy :)
(Painting made by me, the person is a representative of me and anyone who wishes to be the muse)
Among more obvious reasons that I’m passionate about art, it’s the more profound meanings or feelings that stick out to me.
I remember reading a book in which a man, the artist, couldn’t bear to sell or show to the world his painting of his muse. His reasoning was that it revealed an extensive amount of his identity.
I, oddly enough, found that resonated with me. That so much of oneself—not limiting hard work— has been integrated into our art. Such as our thoughts, hopes, dreams, love, sorrow, growth, memories, personality and who knows how much more are demonstrated. All the vulnerable parts of oneself are etched into every stroke, splatter, smudge, carve, knot, picture, sway, step, lyric, break, act, word, and story.
All out for everyone to dig their greedy and unsympathetic eyes into.
Not everyone is just.
Not everyone is passionate.
Not everyone is compassionate.
Not everyone is open minded.
Not everyone is morally good.
Often it feels like it’s you being judged, disemboweled, a part of you that you handed over with the utmost care and trust. Only to be returned molded or broken by their harshness.
Their crudeness.
Their inability to try to understand or comprehend.
Their own values and beliefs ruling over the art that was never meant to be ruled over with such authority like dictatorships. Art that may have a purpose in mind is immediately disregarded because it doesn’t fit their mold.
Art that was meant to be free from such limits.
Unrestrained.
However, there's an adjacent contradiction to this—interpretation. As it is harmless generally. When others lose themselves in our masterpieces to small works to enjoy is a wonderful way to use art. Evoking brutal honesty that’s wonderfully refreshing to nursing or breaking other’s hearts to something entertaining that pulls anyone into a completely other world to escape reality. To make a new meaning that’s personal, to enhance our art in ways that it seems alive or unique.
In ways we could never imagine.
But can also be turned into something malicious if you are not careful. Into a knife at your back for some.
No one deserves to be driven to their breaking point if that does occur but neither does pretending their art wasn’t made to purposefully harm others without any rhyme or reason is in sense right. However, being set on ruining them for it… doesn’t that just make us just as guilty as them? Focusing on relishing in others’ fall if we don’t agree with them isn’t humane to them—especially for small petty reasons—and creates a cycle of hatred.
It’s also crucial to not let revenge or hatred cloud our vision of our art for others—as it’s good to have an outlet that is healthy, but not at the expense of others or to the point of destruction even if chaos is fun.
Additionally, it is equally important to stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.
Art to me is also another way to be close to the dead—and may be like so for others too. To those who can no longer make their mark in the world of where their loved ones are and to everyone else they wanted to reach. Perhaps even selfishly of me—to be close to her, to her world of art that she cared for dearly.
Art is many things.
It’s different for everyone and not everyone will agree.
It’s malleable in society’s minds and bodies.
It’s our world, a part of who we are—undeniably tied to our souls.
And so I ask to all… how do we care for these souls?