I’ve just made an important discovery and I’m not sure of its impact.
It seems like all my life I have unconsciously worshiped artists (painters, writers, poets, musicians, directors…) as gods. In my head, artists represented Perfection, Beauty, Love, Creation… all that good stuff. They could do no wrong. Anyone capable of creating works of amazing beauty must be a beautiful person. They’ve had an automatic pass to my heart.
Not any more. I’m no longer (that) shocked or disappointed if an artist turns out to be a jerk.
Yes, artists are human! It sounds obvious and if someone asked me, I would tell them artists are the best members of the human community, but human nevertheless. But my unconscious attitude towards art and artists has always been more than that. When I thought of an artist or met one, I saw a god, I would be staring at a Creator.
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What’s significant about my personal realization is that I think art and artists might be the last perfect things in my universe. I don’t think there are any gods left to worship. Nothing/No one is Sacred, or Perfect 🙂
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At different stages, personal idols and ideals have lost their magical powers one after the other. Including parents, politicians, prophets. God too. And at every stage I have felt more liberated and closer to reality. I’m obsessed with truth.
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I have no idea what I’m talking about :)))
Take a look at this. Tell me this is not Perfection? How could she do wrong?
