August 8, 2009

art and when time stands still

Posted in Art : Beauty, Poetry tagged , , , , , at 6:27 pm by randallbutisingh

The pursuit of Art, which I am doing, now, is an exercise in creativity. It is when one begins to observe more of the wonders of hature:  the blueness  of the sky, the fleecy clouds, the loveliness of flowers, even the tiniest wild one along the path, the singing  birds and insects, the babbling brook, the murmuring waves of the sea.  One becomes more inquisitive and wants to learn more of the ways of nature

It is sad to know,  how many possesed fully of  all their senses pass by without heeding the beauties around them, their only concern is how much they can wrest from nature to satisfy their greed, even to the extent of destroying her.

The Artist, however, be he painter or sculptor, does not destroy but creates.  In the process,  time stands still;  and  in the height of his creativity, he is out of his body also.  Then he becomes unaware of pain,  hunger and thirst and the world around.  He is focussed until he is brought back to find that time has travelled far, and he begins again to feel   pain,  hunger and thirst

I would like to make a note  here, that this is not only an experience of the Artist where it is more sustained, but with any one who is focussed on doing something he loves, even in the peeling of a wand; or a sick person receiving a visit from a loving friend, or two lovers  in silent communication.  Or it may be in absorption in a game of chess or checkers.  Those who have read the novel “R ip Van Winkle” will know what I am talking about.  Deeply absorbed in a game of draughts, his beard grew to full length; he himself grew very old. When he came back to time he tried to find the home in which he lived and his family but everything had changed and he was lost.

— Randall Butisingh


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