Art

Art is nothing but an ejaculation of the soul when the humanness within you experiences an orgasm of reality, or surrealism or other impressionistic alternatives.

But it is an outpouring; an expression of creation.

Our natural instinct to survive is lost upon certain individuals in conventional ways.

Now the world calls such individuals - artists. But nature has ingrained in these individuals a different form of survival.

And their ejaculation is not of life, but of the soul.

And beauty is often misunderstood as something to be pursued only when you are idle and free, but to an artist, beauty is an occupation. And by virtue of being an occupation, beauty is also an occupational hazard.

For when one sees beauty without the sunglasses of humdrum and routine existence, that beauty can be blinding and evokes such passion; such desire to understand and to participate in it, that the realm of reality may be fractured and the artist may find himself drifting into alternative realities to explore beauty without being bothered with the humdrum exercises of routine.