The Flight of the Rocketman

"I don't put a gender tag on empathy." -- Natalie Merchant

I don't want to start another entry about the sorrows of work. The weight has doubled and I feel closed in from all sides. I love my job. I don't like my environment, all of a sudden. People who have power, abusing it and flaunting their ignorance just to prove something just completely bothers me. Ooops! I think I've started. I don't want to go there. Instead, I'll go somewhere else...

I'm reading all these books on art and I find myself completely drawn to the world of "imaginative life," as Roger Fry would call it. He wrote this fabulous essay, "An Essay in Aesthetics" and he defends art and its existence in this universe because it allows us to observe the world around us with a critical eye. It captures in freeze-frame the details that we always miss because of natural reaction to real situations. The example he uses in his essay is the wild bull. The moment you see a wild bull in real life, your first instinct is to search for safe ground. It is to flee. But we tend to miss out on the beauty of the bull's strength, the sun in the sky, the farmer walking slowly towards the bull, completely used to the bull's wild, fiery temper. We miss out on these details and so much more. In art, we do not have that same fear of the painting because we know for a fact that the bull is not real. And then, we begin to see the deep contrast and similarities the bull has to the raging summer sun. We see the deep contrast of the bull to the aged farmer. And while all of these details exist in both the real world and the imaginative world, only in the imaginative world are we allowed to see the beauty and the connection of all things. We tend to miss out on these symbols and relationships in the real world since we are too busy reacting to real life situations.

This is the importance of art, according to Roger Fry. It captures the essence of beauty in nature and projects it to us so we don't miss it in our lives. At the same time, it allows us to reflect on what real life is really like. That if we see a bull, wild and raging, our first instinct is to flee when, in fact, the farmer is on his way there to placate him. There are many ways we can approach a situation, but we don't see it since we are creatures of instinct and impulse.

Maybe the bull is a bad example - I've distorted Roger Fry's example to a point where it doesn't make sense. But I think you get what I mean.

Sometimes, I feel so pretensious reading books on critical analogy of art. Or, when I read philosophy books or books on history or literary criticism; I feel pretensious. It's like, I have to read these books to prove I'm smart. And since I'm the type of person who likes to share information and knowledge and who likes to try to incorporate everything that I experience in my day-to-day life and conversation; I feel that I will end up sounding like a name-dropper or a know-it-all or a pretensious prick! But what can I do? I do like reading these essays on art. I so enjoyed reading Jeanette Winterson's "Art Objects" (considering the fact that I cannot read "Art and Lies," it is so difficult).

I don't want to apologise for the books that I read, for the music I listen to, to the people I converse with and to the movies that I watch. I do not want to apologise for the things that I remember, the ideas that I subscribe to and the way I live my life because of my experiences. I like the fact that I can read these books, understand them and share them, make them easier to understand to my friends. I like the fact that I can appreciate art, poetry, music (of all forms), film, photography and other forms of art. I like the fact that I can talk about these things with enough confidence and belief in my opinions that I become an engaging conversationalist in these matters.

I think a life that is lived with or in art is one that is both fruitful and fulfilling. After all, I've always believed that art reminds us what it means to be human. If that is true, I want to always remember and to help people remember what it means to be alive.

I think this is where my self-indulgent nature comes from. I think this is where my passionate nature stems from. I think this is why I always try to give 100% in everything that I do. It's because life is only fulfilling when you do everything that you love. And that, in the end, you've experienced a wide range of emotions and lived many lives (despite having been given only one). And then, leaving something of worth behind.

Making a mark and living well.