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A few months ago I visited a local art musuem (largely because it was free). Although there were a lot of classic works there, near the front lobby was a small section of “modern” pictures and paintings. One of these pictures showed the small of someone’s back, his/her buttocks, and the top part of his/her thighs. “This is art?” I wondered. Then a curious thought hit me, what if I went home, dropped my drawers, and took a picture of my rear end and sold it to an art gallery? College tuition problem is solved!
Stop gagging, I didn’t and won’t do such a thing (unless I become very desperate for cash). But this experience started rolling in my mind the age old question “what is art?” or “what should be considered art?” As I dwelt on this more, I began to see that for today’s generation the question doesn’t so much rely on what art is, but it’s moreso a question of boundaries.
Today’s generation continually pushes for no boundaries in all facets of life, but especially in art. If only artists could have their way, then we would reach a new zenith of artistic culture. But is this really the case? Once you throw out boundaries, who’s to say what is art and what is not? You suddenly find yourself in this postmodern conundrum of “what is the true truth here?” Is art what the majority says is art or is there a universal line that true art rides on?
I believe there should be boundaries in art. Give me a box and tell me to work in it. A situation like that would cause my imagination to soar. What wild ideas could I come up inside the boundary line? What a challenge! In modern culture, take Pixar. Year after year they produce hit movies that outsell nearly all other movies on the market. What’s crazy is that they’re producing family movies so they have stricter boundaries to work in. Yet despite this they have some of the more creative plots, jokes, and ideas out there.
Now I’m not saying that all art should be catered strictly toward family (though I see no harm in that) and I’m not saying art’s boundaries should be kept as small as possible. I see the world of art as a vast rolling plain, a continent if you will, bordered by an impassable ocean. Stay within the borders and you’re safe, but try to swim beyond the tide and you’ll find only doom and danger. So be creative, but within reason. None of this “artistic anarchy” trash. That will only confuse and ruin art. Go by the universal lines of moral art. It may feel cramped, but let that challenge you to create a masterpiece with what you have.
What say you? Agree? Disagree?
I seriously don’t understand it. The issue is as confusing to me as why they won’t put the original Power Rangers on DVD. For the past couple of months, literally hundreds (not thousands) of people have found my blog because of one man. I called him my “good friend” in a post last year, and he has proven himself by drawing a good number of Google searchers.
I don’t know what’s sadder, the fact that my blog gets more traffic from this silly man than all the other serious stuff here or the fact that people are actually searching for him on Google. I think it cuts both way. I have a strange obsession with his smiling face that makes me giggle like a little girl and apparently so do countless others who continue to find my blog through him.
Since he drew more traffic last year than anything else, he is the “man of the year” for 2010. Forget Obama, or Assange, or Richard Simmons or anyone else, here’s to the true man of the year:
Mr Emmitt Nervend.
Yes, it’s time again for me to write to all 2 of you to let you know how my year went…because you really wanted to know. But first, an overall review/conclusion of 2010…disappointing. I figured this would be a special year, but not for the reasons that it became. I had great, vague expectations for this year and most of them fell through or didn’t even materialize. Looking at my reflections post from last year (click here), I’m comparing my expectations with reality:
That songwriting competition failed miserably at the end. Though I did get my song onto the resulting “album” (which was sadly only available for less than 30 days..i know,right?). I did submit a novel to a publisher but I have yet to hear back from them. Musically, nothing happened. As to the girlfriend thing…i shan’t comment. But now, how about the year in a quick review?
The opening months through March were difficult largely because of the online classes I took. I had never quite been through a period of isolation like that and hope that I never go through something like that again. Then came April and now my life coincides with the Simon & Garfunkel song “April Come She Will.” Here’s the lyrics and then I’ll sum up the connection: (listen to it here)
April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again.
June, she’ll change her tune,
In restless walks she’ll prowl the night;
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight.
August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I’ll remember
A love once new has now grown old.
April was filled with hope as the semester closed out,and was ironically a wet month. May seemed to linger for a while. June did indeed “change her tune” as family issues arose and the year took a sudden downward turn. July flew by with some interesting developments (both good and bad) and didn’t bother to stay long.
August was, strangely, my best month this year. For a few weeks I was happy, being back in Louisville with friends and my church, and for other reasons. It was a shame that she had to “die” (though it was not a month with “autumn winds blowing chilly and cold”). The cold came in September when everything collapsed and my euphoric moment of happiness faded like the morning fog. Reality back home jumped in and reminded me that there were issues that I just couldn’t ignore along with things in Louisville taking a “curveball” turn. Indeed, September of 2’10, I will remember, “a love once new has now grown old.”
From October-November I struggled between finishing school and being a support at home. My happy return to Boyce was dashed and with it any hopes of a happy 2’10. December was a cold month weather-wise, but also in terms of life as well. From family life at home to struggling to find a new job. Now my unhappy year comes to a thankful end and will bow out on a very unhappy note: my return to Wendy’s.
[I wanna pause to be clear that when I say "reality from back home" ruined my "happiness" at Boyce, i'm not saying that helping my family (or even my family itself) was what dashed it. It was moreso the circumstances with my Dad under which I had to work.]
But in spite of all this, in spite of a spoiled year, I can’t deny that my relationship with God has grown in a way I didn’t expect. Through all this turmoil God has been my Constant. I can’t deny how faithful He has been to me. And with His faithfulness and love to support me, I can crawl into 2’11 and expect that no matter what happens, it’s all in God’s hands.
Maybe I’ll finally get a book published…maybe I’ll finally find my niche musically…maybe I’ll find true love..maybe I’ll finally start my life…there are a host of maybe’s, but only one Constant. And in Him is my only hope…
Happy New Year.
