There are many forms of this thing collectively called art.  Drawing, sculpting, modeling, writing, singing, and the numerous other creative activities that one invests time and energy into are the closest we as human beings come to knowing the truth about existence.  With each stroke of a brush or pen, every word or melody, the world and the lives bustling though out it find solace within the creative energy unleashed from the minds of artisans from the various disciplines.  Art is such that no one form controls the minds and emotions of those around them.  The effect of art is a combined effort.  Books conjure images within the mind to supplement the story while photos invoke an eruption of words telling stories that will never be heard, only felt.

While constructing our own realities and investigating the “what-ifs” of the universe we strive for the proper perspective to finally reveal all the mysteries that surround us.  Enlightenment awaits the casual observer willing to see the beauty and wonder always swirling around in the chaos of the world.  But a singular question remains.  Is any particular perspective the right one?  Each artist has a different perspective to the same vision. This separation of perception alone does not discount the power of the idea shared and experienced.  It only helps shape the large picture by deconstructing it to its various parts.

In essence, art is not just a physical action, but a way of thinking.  We are all artists in our own way when our thoughts stray to the abstract.  The question is not what is art, but how do we recognize it?  When are our daily actions artful or mudane?

Take the simple example of a model sitting in the middle of a well lit room.  That person is something different to each person observing her.  In fact, the model has her own ideas as to what she wants to convey to the minds of all the artists that are studying each nuance of her body, posture, and expression.  All these aspects come together to provide a template for an idea that boils under the surface fighting to be free to soar and creep into the dark corners of the mind and saturate the observers being.  

Models are artists, simple as that.  The elegant movements of their bodies convey entire stories told only by them.  They command arcane powers through a quick glance, a provocative stance, or a lingering smile.  Desire is their plaything and they wield it with the expertise of an Amazon Goddess.  A heart wrenching stance of rejection will break the souls of men down to nothing only so the angel or demon before them might rebuild their quarry according to some greater design.  Giving these lost souls their own direction, providing light or darkness to their journey, giving them the change to discover something new and enriching.  With their bodies as their canvas, each muscle is a tool to be mastered and utilized.  Skills at their most basic of levels that most take for granted and never appreciate in the way they should or can are at a model’s command.

The artist with merely a pen and paper can create whole worlds and vistas at a whim.  Each swift action of the wrist forces lines to collide and develop into complex patterns of form and sublime poetry.  Shade and color are not just splashed haphazardly across a canvas by the skilled architect of anarchy.  Instead, beauty and order are created within the chaos of the world.  Each new universe or galaxy brings with them the possibility of greater unknowns waiting to be explored and pondered.  With rock or clay, charcoal or ink, it doesn’t matter.  The lavish splendor that can be brought into existence via the artist’s skillful touch can inspire anyone who looks at a piece of art with an open mind and willing heart.

The photographer coaxes and bends the domain of light and shadow to their whim.  Photography can capture and display scenes and wonders not only real and true, but it can educate the viewer on what is possible in the world.  With film and machinery, they record singular moments that may initially last less than a second and allow them to live on for eternity with only a flick of a finger.  The emotions and actions found within a picture are not only worth a thousand words, but represent a multitude of feelings.  This is the art of what is not only possible, but what is waiting for all of us, if we would only go out and find it for ourselves.

A writer painfully picks the words that are necessary to evict emotion from their stalwart reader.  Each syllable is measured and plotted to push the story, prose, or poem along and allow the supplicant to free their emotions from the warren landscape of normalcy and run free in a world of creative thought and ideas.   Each notion organized to excruciating detail helps lift whoever hears it to astounding new heights and visions of the future.  Hope is the writer’s job and calling.  Through the telling of stories, words wrap around our thoughts and expectations, altering the world around us and providing a comforting moment in even the most disturbing social climates.  Those who experience such emotionally charged stories feel the need to rally against injustice or embrace those they love.  Words have a power that people underestimate.  It is the writer’s job to remind them.

In the end, we come back to the same deliberation, what is art?  And again I offer the simplest of possibilities and most elegant of explanations.  Art is merely a state of mind.  Not just the act of creation, but a creative reimagining of that one small part of the world you saw and wanted to recreate and build into something lasting and alive.  Each individual who experiences any one piece of art is changed and the art itself is changed at the same time.  For each action, there is an equal and opposition reaction, whether it is physical and metaphysical.  Art is the soul of creation, not just inspiration or hope or desire or even beauty.  The ultimate result is understanding.  The giving of the self that is then put on display and viewed by countless others and examined with an open mind and welcoming heart is the moment that art comes alive and breathes in its first breath.  We create for ourselves, but we display for the effect.  

Life is art itself.  When our minds wrap themselves around the need to be something more, art is born of itself.  Our every breath and movement becomes something more.  We see the world no longer in shades of gray, but in vibrant watercolor and paint, in subtle movement and stories waiting to be told.  Our actions take on meaning and purpose as we move toward that next moment when we can create.  Art is universal, not just the venue of dreamers, but players and thinkers.  Science is the art of mathematics, explosions of technology and fantasy becoming truth through the imagination of brilliant men and women contained by the rules of the physical world, but not confined by them.  Chess is the art of strategy and complexity, each player theorizing, imagining, and creating new avenues of movements, contained within the rules of play, but not confined by them.  “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.”  We are all contained with the rules of life, but the true artist is never confined by them.  

Though the artist does not require understanding or may never search it out, it is a natural byproduct of the act of creating art.  Each artist opens their souls and uses the materials nestled within to create something special.  Honestly on this level demands a response and we as the viewers are without the power to resist its siren call.  God bless the artist and may their perspectives be forever changing.