I am kinda moody person. Not like psycho moody just moody in changing my moods quickly which is not the same. At least for me. Fleeting is the right word that seems to sum up a lot of things these past months, especialy when it comes to descibing myself.
So I was just in the mood. Really phylosophical, let me tell you. Thought hard and wrote some good thinks - just poured it out. I published a part of it - the slovak one about bloging. Some sentences hopefuly won´t see the light (too personal). Another part in slovak just needs a right time - it´s small and needs context.
The last part, in english, is finaly ready to be made known.
It´s a mosaic, not really meant to fit but I checked the whole thing and it not even makes sense (to me) but can also really make you think and tell you something.
It´s about art and me and writing.
And it´s in english because english is in a way my form of art-language.
Hope you´ll enjoy ...
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I guess every
writer (artist, I dare to say) has this drama factor built in. It’s a tool and
necessity and it alows us to make things bigger, to make even some small
gestures, small detaills matter in a way it does to no anyone else. Artist - I don’t think it’s just me - like to relish, bathe, rub in those moments, when
something inspire us, when we see another masterpiece of art in any form and
it’s not always this still moment in life but we like to act like it is and we
like to truly swim in that feeling, that uplifting SOMETHING that make us stand
out in a silent, not so obvious but important way. I even dare to say, it is a private moment,
not meant to be shared. If it is something worth of/in need of sharing, then we
usually choose our listeners carefully and once again, we bask in that joyous
occasion, hoping the one beside us can see the same,
desperately/naively/rightfully believing she or he can experience it through
us.
Being an artist, to see thing in this way, (because
artist is not just a person it’s a personality, a type of it anyway) it’s as
everything in life is, both a burden and blessing. It set person apart from a
crowd, if not in a literal way, then in emotional.
I mean, everyone sometimes
feel like others can’t possibly understand him but being an artist, it may feel
like you are alone in this big mess and as much as they may try to see and get
it, you just feel different. And when they get the confussed face, when they
laugh or just lighten it, it hurt. And you just feel more lonely …
Artist is such a briliant, fierce, shining kind of
creature. It’s like watching a butterfly. A butterfly with a personality, that
is. Flying from one blossom to another, not staying but always pouring of
INTENSITY. Sad or happy, Butterfly is so full of it.
Not everyone notice. Some may turn a blind eye. But
artists – the true butterflyes are exactly like this, rich in feeling even if
they appear so still and silent.
That´s why it may be really immportant to find the right
compasion. It may be a soul mate or just best friend but artist usualy needs
someone to remind them the reality still haven’t imploded and their body still
needs nutrition. And of course, they need to be listened to and honestly praised
and criticized. It is not an easy task, to live with an artist. Bless anyone
who try and even more those who succeed. But for all the hardship, it is worth
it. For the sensitive soul of an artist is as loyal as a dog and as interisting
as the life itself.
Yeah. Artist are cool like that.
I see them in this way.
Even if I am one of them ...
And when the inspiration hit …
It’s and unstopable tidal wawe that sweeps and turns everything, but in a good way because standing in it, you can be, for a second
it’s source, you can feel what the artist felt and that is a rare treasure and
a true gift of art that cannot be forced or artificialy made.
It can be only given, for the price equals the
outcome.
If forced to sum up myself in one word, I know I would say “walking contradiction”. Just contradiction, if you want to be technical
but walking contradiction has it’s own special meaning and it fits me like a
glove.
I decided to despise words, just so I can love them
deeply. It is the greatest feat to balance the harmony, to know how to unite
the oposites without destroying their uniqueness or canceling each other. But
if you learn to really laugh at words, if you really understand how inadequate
they can be, how ridicules it is to use them as a mean of communication, just
then, and only then, you can learn to love them fully and unconditionaly.
Love … the term nowadays is used far, far more lightly
then it deserves but in fact we are using it correctly even if we are totally
wrong at the same time. There were so many forms of love in old languages,
because there are many forms of love.
Love for words is not a romantical love. Not friendly
nor one of a family.
It is a special kind – a little love with a spoonful
of admiration, a drop of logic …
But it is, I dare to say, a love nonetheless and as
every love, it is a miracle.
Yet to learn about other forms of love, my love for things is big
and still have space for improvements.
But I learned to despise words, because I do love
them ...
You know, words for me are the sweatest kind of poison and the sourest song of a nightingale.
Human race is so dependend of them, that mastering
words is almost like mastering our world. And as everything, words have two
sides and it is upon us to decide, if we use them to spread magic or spawn the
darkness.
To make the words right, they have to feel right.
No logic or common sense is involved – you have to use
the deepest emotional compass, built-in within everyone, to know that yes, this
is good.
Use your words lightly, for they can change the world ...
