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| Watercolor No 13. Vasily Kandinsky, 1913. Art inspires in mysterious ways. |
It is easy to lose oneself in a subjective world, where the aesthetic perception falls in the conscience of whom dears to nourish from someone’s work. Someone, contributing with a fervent desire of transmitting motivations and meanings, a symbolic narrative with an existential problematic, in occasions difficult to understand, to recreate. It is just the way art is. Always enclosing an inspirational concept, schematizing the mysteries of human condition, the search for identity, liberal expression, and forbidden topics –morbid, sexual, fantastic- I will never finish. I admire whoever possesses a vehement appetite for the renewal of artistic languages that sets free the greatest minds in the world. The artist, materializes his inner vision, his reality, and awakens bewilderment in every human thirsty for a new beginning.
Yes, art does inspire. Wandering in a color abyss, in a world of hidden secrets, brings peace to my delirium. Art is an incurable disease, a path with no return. It aids the comprehension of the unspoken under the apparent truth. It is passion, to free oneself from the constraints of rationalism, an eternal instant of wisdom. It is, and will always be, the divine emotional reflection of the intangible.
Yes, art does inspire me.
