Thought I would toss this old post back into the wonderous web world…and let it pulse around a bit. Share this post if you wish…Give it some extra life. 🙂
Regardless of what artists create, at some point it’s just an inanimate object or concept. Paintings, sculptures and photographs have no pulse, no breath…no real internal life. This also applies to poetry, music and film. A poem is a list of words. A song, a collection of notes. A movie is a series of stills. Of course dancers and singers could be momentary exceptions to the “heartless arts.” The movements in dance reveal the heart at work. And the heart is alive as the singer sings a song. But, once the singer’s voice is silent the song becomes a list of words and a collection of notes. At an analytic level, a dance or ballet becomes a series of planned moves. All of this might make you think I’m a cold artist. But, I’m not.
The “life” we often project into some form of art actually reflects our own. The…
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