Good Grief, I’m at a loss for words!
Actually, the words are there, the idea has been since last night, and the only problem seems to be that the longer it remains unwritten, the more it grows, splits, multiplies, and follows different paths.
The idea is about perception, something I’ve blogged about many, many times. You may be bored to tears by my thought process on it by now, but, well, sorry…I still haven’t gotten it clear in my mind yet. Basically it developed once again from a conversation yesterday with my friend, Neha, regarding editing and revising our work, workshopping at our group meetings, and the art is for personal interpretation theory.
Stubborn little sh.. that I am, I still want to see it my own way–which conflicts with the above theory in that my theory is to see it the artist’s way. I want to understand what he means by the symbolism. I want to know why he put a red streak in the middle of the canvas, and not accept that to me it means “the tearing of the soul of women in the pre-feminist era.”
If I’d have sat down and started typing at that point, I might have had a post ready this morning. Not a great one, nothing profound, just my viewpoint. But then things started to get complicated by current events, and I realized how one pretty factual incident can be seen in so many ways. Not just the various reports, but one single report and all the different feelings and responses by the very same words. The answer, of course, is our perception of everything around us that exists or happens is recorded differently in each of our minds, based upon the experience stored within up to that time. (Bummer, I have forgotten which school of philosophy this goes under, and if I go check to refresh my brain, this pre-post won’t even get finished.)
Perception. Twicky subject. I’ll try to sort it out a little better in my head before I try to put it into words.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology