Ashley Powell
E603A, World Literature
December 7, 2006
Everything is Beautiful
Beauty
is everywhere. Whether created by humans or by God, there is beauty in
everything on Earth—in life, in death; in joy, in sorrow; in luxury, in
scarcity. This beauty can be described as art, as it is Òaccording to aesthetic
principles. . . what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary
significance.Ó[1] By
observing, analyzing, and appreciating this world overflowing with art, I feel
I can find truth, discover connections, and begin to understand how I fit into
this universe. This goal guides my passion as I endeavor to achieve freedom of
thought through the study of natural creativity and art. As the ÒVictorian
prophetÓ[2]
John Ruskin stated, ÒNo human capacity ever yet saw the whole of a thing; but
we may see more and more of it the longer we look. . . .Ó[3]
I strive to look longer and harder each time I view an image, whether it be a
mountain sunset, a Picasso portrait, or a tangle of interstate overpasses, to
find that elusive truth, that beauty that connects them all. I wish to see the
world as art.
This passion for creativity and beauty has been present in my life since childhood. Some of my earliest and most poignant memories are of crayons, glitter, and glue. I do not remember my sister being born, but I can recall with vivid imagery making her a birthday card while my mother was in the hospital. I always had a strong desire to create, to take something plain and turn it into something unusual, something extraordinary. Even in Kindergarten, I remember the excitement that would flood my immature mind when we went to our weekly art class, a feeling that many of my peers saved for recess or gym. I soon became interested in outside art classes and programs that would expand my knowledge of my own ability to create and appreciate all incarnations of beauty. While I knew I wished to create, I loved being surrounded by the divine art of the natural world. I spent endless hours playing in the bayou and the Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary that was located in my neighborhood. I chased tadpoles, picked flowers, fished, and as I played in my childhood innocence, I unconsciously immersed myself in the glorious beauty that a natural setting can afford. Experiencing beauty in nature at such a tender age inspired me to push myself as I grew older to seek out beauty and attempt to replicate it. Because I began to realize this passion for creativity before I was unknowingly influenced by my peers, before I became interested in pop culture, before I knew anything about society, about religion, about the complexity of human life, I feel my passion has solidarity. It is pure and true, or as close to truth as I can fathom.
As I grew older, I became frustrated with the restrictions and boundaries I sensed that society placed on my thinking. I felt the pressure to govern my thoughts, to pursue the path people expected me to follow, to conform to an idea that happiness and success is achieved by learning facts and figures. I was being taught to view the world as a tool to be used and not as art to be appreciated. I felt my mind narrowing, like I was being sucked into a whirlwind of societal influence that stressed function and practicality. I began to feel isolated: my life was moving too fast for me to appreciate the beauty that was ubiquitous. I wanted to succeed; I wanted to find this happiness that was constantly alluded to. My childish naivety was gone, and my mind had been clouded, causing me to forget the primal joy that was available from simply stopping and observing. Ò. . .And now it was the monotony of the highway that oppressed me—dust under foot and brown crackling hedges on either side, ever since I could remember.Ó[4] The monotony of the mainstream, the unconscious hatred of what was being shoved down my throat was wearing me down. I found little solace in my peers, those who unwittingly followed the same road.
Art
saved me. Rediscovering the visual arts by sacrificing classes that would help
me on Òthe roadÓ for classes that taught me about art and aesthetic
satisfaction caused me to remember my original passion for beauty. I took
notice of my idle doodling (which had never ceased throughout my frustration),
and began to truly study what I was observing, focusing on the intricacies and
complexity of the images I found myself repeatedly sketching, almost
unconsciously. None of my sketches were perfect—none were even
close—but there was a certain beauty in my mistakes, in my failures. For
these errors Òmore clearly confess [their] human fallibility, their inability
to fully substitute for nature itself: Ôit is precisely in its expression of
this inferiority that the drawing itself becomes valuable.ÕÓ[5]
This human attempt to express feelings, symbols, and archetypes is what makes
art so wonderful. We try to express the natural through the artificial, but in
doing so create something that is visceral, something that gets at the heart of
how we see ourselves and our place in the world.
As
I pursue my passion for the appreciation of beauty, I discover that the art
created by humans throughout history provides a window to our most primal
fears, desires, and questions. From early cave drawings to modern cartoons,
certain archetypal images—the gentle woman, the brave warrior, the wise
elder—prevail. Our need to portray what we see and what we feel connects
us to our past, present, and future. Even in our most primitive state, we
painted on stone walls; before we could write, we drew pictures. Consciously or
unconsciously, we constructed symbols and icons that were left to be
interpreted.
We
see symbols of adoration in statues of Greek gods, Spartan athletes, resting
Buddhas; they are found everywhere, from Mayan temples to the Lincoln Memorial.
These figures serve no practical function, they perform no task, rather, they
were created with the intention of providing something tangible to express what
that person saw as ideal or worthy of worship. This art is the signature of
civilization, a specific cultureÕs attempts at recreating what is beautiful,
what is divine. Medieval and Renaissance paintings of the Nativity, of Mary,
even of the Crucifixion, are images of the abstract concepts—fundamental
ideas concerning Life, Death, and an unknown power that directs it all, that
are characteristic of religion. They are beautiful in how they fill
spirituality with humanity, for though they are not perfect, they show the
human attempt at faith, hope, comfort, or even fear. The observer can see from
these pieces how the artist viewed God and how he responded to such abstract
ideas. The artist searches for such an image within, while the observer draws
connections to his own opinions and conclusions based on the context, the
intention of the artist, and what the art inspires in his own mind. As it
inspires this chain of reflection, art has the unique ability to connect us on
both conscious and unconscious levels as we analyze and relate to both the
literal and metaphorical aspect of a piece. In doing so, art provides a link
between our own ideas and those of others from all periods of time.
As
religious art provides tangible windows into what I regard as spiritual,
landscape and natural art has taught me how to view and appreciate the beauty I
am constantly surrounded with. This Holy art has the ability to give rest to
those who are weary from the toils of Òthe road.Ó Its Òdisparate intentions,
[its] prodigal disarray,Ó[6]
allow me to free my minds from its constant need to organize, to stratify, to
look for opportunity and progress. I can see truth in its purest form, for this
is what is real—nature has nothing to hide from us. The realist focuses
Ònot on beauty, but on truth;Ó[7]
he hopes to share the emotion he felt when viewing this landscape, to inspire
the observer to find that elusive truth the artist has seen in nature. As I
appreciate both these rendered landscapes and real life experiences, I am
reminded that the effect of nature on my 
psyche
is immeasurable; it shows me God, free from intervention or interruption. As I
hiked among the Rocky Mountains in the summer of 2005, the soaring cliffs, the
snow-capped peaks, the dandelion fields, exuded a harmony, an unadulterated
beauty, a knowledge that perfect peace is real. As I appreciate natural art, I
am reminded of that peace readily available through immersion in what I see as
a symbol of the original, unspoiled Eden that man once strayed from.
In
my claim that all things in the world are beautiful, one might wonder as to how
I can make this assertion when we live in a world full of hostility and anger.
We have strayed so far from the divine Garden that the primitive beauty has
become warped into something ugly, something that deserves no appreciation.
Everyday we are faced with poverty, anger, jealousy, and greed. However, by
gaining compassion for these pure emotions, for those who suffer and 
for
the natural cycle of life and death, joy and sadness, we can learn to
appreciate them simply for the beauty they exhibit in their pure forms. They
are human, they exist, and with sympathy we can appreciate them. In both cases
where compassion or aesthetic appreciation is difficult, the only real barrier
is the limitations of the mind. Because Òthe whole scope of observation is
dwarfed into the narrow chamber of the individual mind,Ó[8]
we view things through a preconceived stereotype of what is beautiful or what
is worthy of sympathy and love, Òeach mind keeping as a solitary prisoner in
its own dream of a world.Ó[9]
We are blinded by misconceptions; for we, as humans, exhibit the basic need to
categorize and objectify the constant flux of sensory information are minds
deal with at each moment. Because we Òhardly have time to make theories about
the things we see and touch,Ó[10]
we automatically rely on our basic stereotypical, bestial instincts.
By
Ònever acquiescing in a facile orthodoxy,Ó[11]
we can broaden our minds to accept pure love, compassion, and appreciation of
each precious moment of life. In the words of Victor Hugo, Òwe are all under
sentence of death but with a sort of indefinite reprieve,Ó[12]
and to achieve happiness in this fleeting life we Òattain peace by injuring no
living creatureÓ[13] and
appreciate the beauty of life Òfrankly to give nothing but the highest quality
to your moments as they pass, and simply for those momentsÕ sake.Ó[14]
As I am drawn to natural art for its virginal beauty and preservation of a primitive Eden where all is at once beautiful and right, art attracts me with its characteristic freedom of thought. Its ability to allow me to stray from convention, to Òemancipate [my] mind from mental slavery,Ó[15] and inspire revolutionary ideas about life and death saved me from the dismal existence I found orthodox culture pulling me into. Art is free from boundaries; it can be expressed in a single line, a red canvas, cubist expressionism, or wild impressionism, and it is still beautiful. This beauty may be immediately apparent, or it may be subliminal. Searching for this beauty, interpreting the artistÕs intention, and relating this meaning to my own perception of the painting, fulfills me in a way that I cannot achieve elsewhere. Art challenges traditional values; it pushes the envelope. It keeps me questioning and inquiring into the how and why of the world. It can be conservative, abstract, passionate, erotic, and scientific; it is ever changing. It can be found in the spiral of a sunflower, the finger painting of a five-year-old, or the smile of the Mona Lisa. It defies convention and allows me to transcend our culture of practicality and take pleasure in a purely aesthetic life.
I
do not know if my passion will fit into my future in the form of a career or
major, but rather, I see it as a lifestyle. I chose my current majors for their
generality; I saw them as foundations for opportunity. As I carry the spirit of
art with me, I know that this alone may not guarantee me stability later in
life. Perhaps this is the effect of my years on Òthe road,Ó but nevertheless
the thought cannot escape me. I pursue Mechanical Engineering in the hope that
I may someday use these technical skills to create something wonderful,
something that can be appreciated for both its function and beauty by all who
admire it. However, I know that it will be challenging to avoid the temptation
of high paying jobs with large companies that could pull me into a career of
greed. I fear the potential limitations I may face in this path, and because of
this anxiety I chose to expand my education into the Liberal Arts. I hope that
Plan II will continue to broaden my view of the world and its beauty as I gain
an understanding of a wide variety of subjects, allowing me to expand my career
options and guide me towards a life of fulfillment. Wherever life takes me, I
am confident I will never abandon my love for art and will continually strive
to implement it in all aspects of my life. Through my passion for art and
beauty, I can find who I am, who I was, who I may someday be, and the
relationships of all these personas to that of the millions of artists that
came before me.
Word Count: 2,082 (without quotes)
503 words added.