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I am an artist at heart and an accountant by profession. I do paper collage paintings and also enjoy painting with acrylic on canvas. I especially like to learn new techniques and paints.
But for a while I was tormented by the question "Is art necessary? & # 39;" I have felt that I should devote my time to better use. Do something really productive and worthwhile. Do something that would improve the world, something really useful and maybe to make a difference. And also find my purpose. Yes the constant question - is that all there? Suddenly, art began to feel like a kind of selfish surrender. As if I should have used my time to do something more important So I began to think if any art was necessary at all.
Every day I read the morning paper. I read to keep myself informed about the news. The news is about crime. Of horrible crimes against women and young children. Of the destruction that has resulted from natural accidents. By people suffering from lack of water or too much of it. Of the air being polluted and of climate change. Of plastics that destroy marine life while blurry governments destroy the environment. Of the corrupt politicians who destroy the social structure of personal gain. Off Ill-informed people driving the economy to the ground. Wrong people at the helm of businesses that suppress and destroy the good. Makes me wonder if anything will ever help stop the rat. Give me hardly any reason to smile at all. Save for the little cartoon on the back, Calvin and Hobbes.
So while I have largely felt like Nero fiction when Rome was burning, I suddenly caught myself on the last line there. The little cartoon Calvin and Hobbes seemed to be the only thing that freed me from tomorrow's relentless depression. The little stuffed tiger and the very cute expressions. The cleverly drawn cartoon with barely 3 or 4 panels conveying an idea usually a witty one. Dragging the reader into a toddler's life sometimes makes the reader wonder where the story goes. I always have to read this cartoon. Even in the mornings when I run late, I quickly watch cartoon. On holidays, I take the time to sit and marvel at the cartoonists' talent. How the stuffed tiger looks so alive in one panel and like a toy in the next. Thanks Bill Watterson.
So what is this cartoon about not art, I asked myself? It gives me a temporary break from the newspaper's depressing news and fatigue. In a way, it enriches me by giving me a glimpse of something amazing. So isn't that all that art is supposed to do?
In a world tormented with grief, art is perhaps like the clouds separating and letting in a ray of sun. Isn't that important? There will always be death and destruction and blood and tears. There will always be bad news and people who need help. But then art must also exist. Art provides a kind of relief for the sadness of life. Maybe it could also be the reason why they created so much art in the last centuries when daily life was a moth and there was so much sickness and suffering from torment and war. And today, when we see works of art from the past, we are lifted and filled with a sense of reverence, how their vision is great, of the enormous importance of their talent and their permanence.
Therefore, art is necessary. Although not all art can be compared to the great masters, all works of art speak to someone in their own way. It gives it the sparkle of light during a cloudy day. It raises the creator's soul itself and causes the viewer to consider for just a moment a glimpse into another world. And if it's really good art, it causes the viewer to pause and maybe smile or be scared.
So art is necessary. All art is necessary. I came to the conclusion that it was important for me to continue to create art for myself and for the benefit of others.
The next question I am now considering is how much time I should spend on my art. Maybe I'll refer again to a quote by little Calvin, "God put me on earth to accomplish a certain number of things. Right now, I'm so far behind that I'll never die."