….wild is the wind…creative freedom is the seed….
It has been a long time since someone asked me an insightful question which made me think….and I suppose it took an artist who worked in a totally different dimension (sound) to ask it:
“As a beautiful woman, how do you deal with the constant advances? How do you choose who you want? Do you just know because you know?”
In order to answer this question, I would have to be able know how do I show a blind person what a piece of art look like and/or how does a deaf person hear music?
So far, all I’ve got is: “Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît pas.” Blaise Pascal
Translation: The heart has reasons which the mind cannot comprehend.
While our minds are constantly reaching for perfection, the heart is constantly growing down to love in ways that we do not comprehend.
The problem with being beautiful is that you are damned if you do and damned if you don’t. That brings with it an endless stream of melancholy as the burden of choice are often so one-sided. Then there’s the question of “settling” which is not a compromise…more like a convenience, just so one could say, “Now it is done and let us never have to speak of it again.”
Lets not hypocritically pretend that beautiful people do not have the “advantage of choice; to accept or discard… as one’s heart pleases…”
It only gets truly interesting when one’s heart throws one a curve-ball. An artist is constantly looking to fall in love with something or someone that “Destroys their reasons.”
Art is an endless unrequited love affair between Artist & the Cosmos….
If it was not so enduring….then a person would be an artist first love instead of the arts….then death?
If I have to answer honestly: “It would be really hard to deal with as a beautiful person if I was not an artist. Since I am, what difference does it make? Whoever the heart chooses is eternally transient….because the no.1 spot is always occupied.”
And that my friends, is why all great art, music or literature has a “touch of the melancholy” that is as Longfellow described
” A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.”
Comme il pleut sur la ville ;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon coeur ?
Ô bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits !
Pour un coeur qui s’ennuie,
Ô le chant de la pluie !
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce coeur qui s’écoeure.
Quoi ! nulle trahison ?…
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C’est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine
Mon coeur a tant de peine !