"...before I so rudely interrupted myself."
Monday, 7. July 2008, 01:23:26
But having acknowledged the duty to blog of good things, not bad, blog of happy, not sad, I should deliver the antidote to any bitterness, even of regret.
I don't know why I had felt MyOpera to be the welcome arms to my first blog experience. Sometimes it's said that people, even normal ones, will mistake the coldness of strangers for the warmth of friends, and vice-versa. If I have done so, I hope you feel yourselves the beneficiaries of my uninvited warmth, and not its victims.
Whether art is imitation of life, or life imitation of art had become abundantly clear to me. It is both, at sundry times, and there is an art which, although it imitates life, is emphatically not a role-model. Similarly what art is exemplary, a paragon for life, may have embellished upon its role-model too. None should complain, because it keeps art and life in productive and beneficial cooperation, but if there is a distinction in name between the art on the one hand and art on the other, I have never seen or heard it.
Do you care to bear with me as I draw a finer distinction? Imagine for me that art, which is properly called "art," is as exemplary a model for life as the easy chair, or the first-class cabin, for the amenities and comforts of travel. Now (are you bearing with me?), imagine the superlative ease, of Jamaican beaches at hotel resorts, with expense-account buffet, free drinks, live music and dance, with complimentary massage. Analogous to the differences in degree between one comparative comfort and another, there is a spectrum of inconvenience: from the every day chore and the common exertion, to the Olympic gold medal trials, and the dare-devil missions. If there is art that is "art," which is expressly a counter-example to life, then perhaps there is art which is Olympian in the extent and dimension of its contrariness. Unfulfilled with imitations of life which are inimitable, such an artist must excel and surpass barriers of inimitability. It is his vigilance to be abominable. Never must the layman 'attempt such art at home.' Only marvellous self-discipline and years of specialized training has enabled the artist to forbear against the 'perfect storm' of countermanding forces. And it is art still.
I don't know why I had felt MyOpera to be the welcome arms to my first blog experience. Sometimes it's said that people, even normal ones, will mistake the coldness of strangers for the warmth of friends, and vice-versa. If I have done so, I hope you feel yourselves the beneficiaries of my uninvited warmth, and not its victims.
Whether art is imitation of life, or life imitation of art had become abundantly clear to me. It is both, at sundry times, and there is an art which, although it imitates life, is emphatically not a role-model. Similarly what art is exemplary, a paragon for life, may have embellished upon its role-model too. None should complain, because it keeps art and life in productive and beneficial cooperation, but if there is a distinction in name between the art on the one hand and art on the other, I have never seen or heard it.
Do you care to bear with me as I draw a finer distinction? Imagine for me that art, which is properly called "art," is as exemplary a model for life as the easy chair, or the first-class cabin, for the amenities and comforts of travel. Now (are you bearing with me?), imagine the superlative ease, of Jamaican beaches at hotel resorts, with expense-account buffet, free drinks, live music and dance, with complimentary massage. Analogous to the differences in degree between one comparative comfort and another, there is a spectrum of inconvenience: from the every day chore and the common exertion, to the Olympic gold medal trials, and the dare-devil missions. If there is art that is "art," which is expressly a counter-example to life, then perhaps there is art which is Olympian in the extent and dimension of its contrariness. Unfulfilled with imitations of life which are inimitable, such an artist must excel and surpass barriers of inimitability. It is his vigilance to be abominable. Never must the layman 'attempt such art at home.' Only marvellous self-discipline and years of specialized training has enabled the artist to forbear against the 'perfect storm' of countermanding forces. And it is art still.
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