philosophie de l'art

If I remember my art philosophy course correctly,  Plato described art as a copy of a copy. He was worried that the harder one tries to portray an object's beauty the more one would destroy it. Dishonesty was of great concern. For those who couldn't see a flower, but could see a painting of one, would be stripped of the original beauty of being in the flower's presence. But the viewer, nonetheless would still see a flower and still see beauty in that flower.
Today, we not only  have museums chock-full of this dishonesty but everyone has a moving picture box in their home to provide continual, dishonest, imperfect beauty. Enter television. I can only say this in so many ways before I even get tired of it but our generation is living through this ruined world that Plato was worried about.
We watch the lives that go by on television as if they were our own. Meanwhile, hardly anyone takes the chance to try to live anymore. I will take time, here and now, to admit that I am a hypocrite. While I know these are the things destroying our generation and I try to heed against them, I take part knowingly and willingly. I'm not brainwashed into thinking that I'm doing anything more with my life than the next. I admit that I am the same "undifferentiated nothingness" that I was when "my peepholes first opened" (thank you Vonnegut).
Still, as the hypocrite that I am, I would like to point out that even Disney/Pixar people know what's happening. Those hypocrites playing on our hypocracy. They see it happening and they mock us for it, knowing that we're still going to love it, still going to love them. Still going to beg for more when it's over. We know we're getting lazy and we know we're only living through the screen but that's what we like, its what we want. Entertainment, in this era, has entered under those categories of survival it seems. Along with shelter, water and food, we need to be entertained.
I would like to say that I think it is "good" (but only to the extent that learning our lessons through tv can be) that there are movies like Wall-E that show kids where our laziness will get us. Kids may not see the underlying themes like adults may but hopefully it settles in their minds on at least some sub-conscious level that we do need to stop trashing our earth, our minds and our bodies.
I still enjoy a movie from time to time, those copies of copies of copies but I try to appreciate beauty in it's purest available form as well. I still enjoy walks amongst what nature is left. I still dig my feet in the sand or stop to watch a dragonfly flutter on by.
I know Plato would describe books the same way, copies of copies.Though my interpretation of these copies of copies, and the thoughts that follow, could to some level be dishonest and impure- yet another set of copies- I appreciate that I feel slightly more knowledgeable for having read/learned them.
As Palahniuk would touch on, in Lullaby, some people still view knowledge as power. And life is just a battle of power. Maybe once I have enough "power", I will actually do something with it. Or maybe I won't be an exception to the rule, though. I could just forever remain what I always was, what I still am, undifferentiated nothingness. Uninspired. Uninspiring. Copied. Copying.
No matter the outcome, I will probably always feed off of and into what Plato would have called a copied world. This is how we've evolved. Words = Knowledge. Knowledge = Power. We are born to be entertaining. We are needing to be entertained. We are hungry for power. So learn something.

"The natural world destroyed, we're left with this clutter world of language." -CP

la vie en film

I've been thinking for a while now, maybe a couple years or so, about trying to pinpoint beautiful experiences and trying to capture them in memory and trying to pass them on to the world. In sketches. In stories. In some sort of artistic expression. I have been searching for the right blend of experiences and related descriptions to deem worthy of one's reading. Years later, I am ashamed to admit that I have realized or perhaps been convinced that even the best of descriptions for the best of moments are still just copies of copies.
Thank you Chuck Palahniuk for taking my beauty, my insight, my loves, my memories straight out of my hippocampus and throwing them all into the metaphorical trash. Nothing that has happened to me hasn't happened to everyone else. No experience is unique.
I think back to the time when a boyfriend of mine would surprise me by dancing to nothing but the beat of our own footsteps. At the moment, I was mystified and surprised. I was so sure that the story of our love could be summed up in the few short minutes we spent closer to each other than the rest of the world had ever been. Closer to each other than anyone in the rest of the world could ever try to be. It made me feel beautiful and unique. Loved and special enough to spend the time and spontaneity on. And then I saw the same scene re-enacted for the world to see in a movie. Only it was different characters and it was in the middle of a road somewhere. And you could see her smile and you could see the passion in his eyes. And, although they were dancing to silence, there was a soundtrack for us to hear because it was after-all a movie.
The thing about movies though, is that you can see all the characters and even when the characters have a flashback, the scene includes all of them even the one whose mind is supposedly having the flashback. You get to see just how beautiful, just how in love all of the characters are/were. You get to see how the love in their eyes makes them that much more beautiful for just that moment. But the thing about real life is you are never going to be able to see what everyone else sees in the way that you feel. The love you held in your eyes only counts to the one who saw it and it only counts for that moment. You can never recreate that beauty or that moment because you couldn't see it from all angles.
And why would you want to? We say we want special and unique experiences but we're addicted to happiness the way a masochist is addicted to suffering. After having that one glorified, defining moment we can't wait for the next to come along. After all, if we were only due that one glorified, defining moment, what reason would we have to live for after it? So we try again.
We keep dancing in the silence hoping to feel that passion, hoping to recreate that moment. Little do we realize that the moment was 'special' because it was spontaneous and unprecedented. But, with the limited creative potential this modern world holds, it is hard, maybe impossible even, to continue creating spontaneous moments so we get sucked in to the hum-drum daily grind of real life. And we start living in movies and books because those copies of copies are unique to us and make us feel alive.

Tout le mond devrait le faire

I start thinking about it and my heart starts racing. If I were any more excited I think my body would actually start trembling. In ten minutes, I know that I will be right where I want to be. I will be hot and sweaty and I will be satisfied to know that there is something I do right. And afterwards I will be glad I made the decision to do this. I will be happy and I will even feel more beautiful. Still, I know the next time I do this will feel even better and I will be even happier and I will feel even more beautiful.

I have an addiction. A healthy one.

I love to run.

Un long dimanche de fiançailles

I just watched another film starring Audrey Tatou and it was beautiful. It's not just their language that makes the French so beautiful. Everything about their culture is amazing. At least to me. Even though I thought the movie was beautiful- the scenery, the filmography, the plot- I hated it a little bit.

I hate to admit that I am bitter but I cannot think of another explanation for why I hate movies about love. The first and only movie I've ever cried watching was "What Dreams May Come". However, "Tristan and Isolde" put me in a funk for a few days and I did end up crying about that movie. I know these movies are usually used to inspire and cheer people up but all I see is human failure. It makes me sad to think that someone could write about and act out such a pure form of love but I see no real-life examples. At least no new ones. I believe in the love my grandparents and great aunt and uncle share.

I swear I see people get married left and right but I never see love like they show in movies. Or even love like my grandparents have. Is it just me or does true love only exist in written/scripted/picture form anymore? Don't get me wrong I still give love a chance. I still keep my heart open so that "love will find its way in". I just don't really truly believe in it.

Maybe that's how I create a sort of self'-fulfilled prophecy. By letting people know that I don't really believe in it, no one is willing to share theirs with me. Maybe.

And I still believe in love. For sure. I just don't believe in "true love", the kind of love people fight for or at least try for. Sometimes I think love is just a victim of the modern world. Technology makes everything so easy for us that we take for granted anything you have to work for. Anything worth working for. I do think love, "true love" even, existed at one point. I think my grandparents' generation has a few couples who were/are/will forever be in love. And back then, it wasn't easy.

Everyone I talk to about long distance relationships says they won't work out. Some say it's easier now with skyping/texting and all these ways to stay connected quickly but I haven't witnessed a long-distance relationship "working-out" let alone one where both people are in the same city. Our generation is so bogged down by our need for instant gratification. If its not easy, if its not perfect all on its own, its not working and it gets dismissed.

So the cynic rambles on....

One day, I was looking for a quote about love to share. I ended up on google and found a link about "the story of the man who didn't believe in love". The title alone intrigued me so I delved in. After reading it, I was calm. I felt as though this epiphany was brought to my attention. I was accepting and understanding and it made me feel better for a while. It's still just a story. Just another fictional map to describe another author's journey through love but I like it. I think it's beautiful and worth reading.
This isn't the link I found originally, that had something to do with a website named something like thinkexist, but it's the same story:
http://www.howtogetoverarelationship.com/the-man-who-didnt-believe-in-love/

Kurt et Chuck

Up until recently, I hardly read anything if it wasn't written by Kurt Vonnegut. Right now, I'm into Chuck Palahniuk. This man is amazing. He has a cynic voice, like I admire so much in Kurt, in his writing but it can be encouraging in a way. I've never hated the human race so much but at the same time, loved it so much either. To think that he can create such mind-bending thrills within a couple hundred pages. To see that he can make me think and re-think, regret, reform. I'm just beyond half-way through Diary and I can't help but feel connected to the fictional character "writing" it. It's like taking my earlier blog post, "inspiration" and turning that into a character and then having someone else write to him while he's in a coma. So far at least.
Some of the things he writes, I feel like they were taken from my mind, my mouth and/or my writings. This is going to be short because I just have to finish reading. I was told that I won't see the end coming and now I'm even more excited to finish it.

n'aime rien

I know not love

For still, I fear

To keep those, who love,

In my heart, so near.

If love, I knew,

Were here to stay

I’d love and love

And love away.

But fear I may,

That love doth leave.

I love not, thus

Not loved, I grieve.

Love not, want not,

Hurt not I.

Wish not. Share not.

Cry not. Die

je suis amour

One of my best friends has a tattoo on her wrist. It reads:
be free
be happy
be love
For readers that don't understand French, and didn't look it up already, the title of this one translates to "I am love." Though I may not think of that saying everyday, like someone who has it tattooed to their wrist might, I still feel as though I have melded this saying into my persona. After all, who shouldn't be free? Who shouldn't be happy? Who shouldn't be love?
There may have been days when I have come up with people who, at the time, I thought didn't deserve to be one or any of those. Realistically, however, I am sensible enough to admit that each and every individual truly deserves all three of these idealisms toujours.

We should all be free to feel the way we feel. Whether it's what we want to feel or not, we are all human and can't always control our feelings. Others should be able to accept that. It is okay to be sad. It is also okay to be happy. But at no point in my life should I ever have to be either. We should all be free to express ourselves however we want. You may not agree with me, but you may feel free to express that as well. Each and every individual should be free to make mistakes! What better way to learn? We should be free to talk, free to listen, free to walk, free to christen, free to love... Free. to. be.

I have heard, often, that it is okay to cry. It is okay to be sad. Its okay to grieve. And it is true, that is all okay. But how rare is it to hear, to read, to understand that it is also okay to be happy? I love this phrase for many reasons. It contradicts the norm. It gives an optimistic spin on life. This phrase frees one of the burden of feeling as though one has to acknowledge and/or represent the moment when things go wrong. This phrase opens up a world of happiness where others may have felt it wasn't yet appropriate or okay to move on.
Lesson learned: there is no right or wrong time to grieve. Even when sad things happen, it is okay to be happy.

Further, it is okay to love and be loved. From this, I conclude that it is important, essential even, to be love. This is a free and open phrase. It can mean many things to many people. To me, love is a happiness felt in your heart. It's knowing that somewhere in your life, you or someone close did something so right that your connection to yourself or that person can constantly change your life for the better. And even when it feels like it may be changing your life for the worst, one day you will realize that those feelings were still "character-building" and you still turned out to (as you always will) be better off.
So to be love, in my opinion, is to be that happiness in a heart. It can even be in your own. I know that some would still disagree when they hear, "better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." But in the most minimal of ways, you should at least love yourself.
You don't have to be selfish, cocky, and/or arrogant to love yourself. This simply takes a little appreciation. Sit down and think about it. What do you like about yourself? Maybe you do something for others, maybe you like the way you look, maybe you have an incredibly optimistic point of view. These are just three of millions of reasons to love one's self. You should be able to come up with at least one. Why? Because you will be a better person for it. Because, if you can't love something as simple and approachable as yourself, you will never be able to appreciate that which makes life worth living. And without that appreciation, even if your body is still alive, you are not truly living.
In order to love others, I'm sure you've heard, you must first love yourself. And why bother loving others? Love is such an important communicator between two human beings. It doesn't have to be between lovers to be important love. Just as loving yourself is necessary to appreciate life, loving others opens up that many more doors to the opportunity of appreciating that much more in life. I feel so passionate about this that I'm sure this subject will take up more than one blog. I'll save that for another day, though. But just know that, in the words of Kimya Dawson, "Love is common destiny."