Making art consoles me. It quietens my mind. The mixing of colors with water, the dipping of brushes, the smooth strokes on paper, the tiresomeness of having to do it over and over again for you never get it right; is the reward of painting to me.
I am all too aware of my aesthetic limitations, and my meagre skills or rather non-skills as an amateur painter. But, that is not the point here, or ever, when the question is of art. In the same vein, possessing art has its consolations as well. It inspires, it creates new thoughts, it makes one aware of another novel perspective. Art makes us see the world around us differently. I don't know what exactly it is, but creating art or buying art brings an altered view to reality. It elevates us by elevating our spaces, our environments, our senses.
I started to paint in water colours a few months back, and am absolutely loving the process of making paintings. Some turn out alright, most others don't, though that hardly bothers me. I suppose through this course I am beginning to get less and less critical of my self and what I do. Most of our lives, at least my life, we carry an unnecessary and undesired burden of 'self-criticisim' and 'self-negation.' Nothing we do is ever good enough for ourselves, for in us resides our most resilient and stubborn critic, who finds divergent ways to discredit whatever we do, however we do it.
I believe art pacifies that heinous critical cry that forbids us from exploring undiscovered talents, attributes or sides to ourselves.
Make art, buy art, possess art, watch art, for it makes you accept who you are and pushes you to be creative in your own singular way.
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