Tag Archives: art

Abstract expressionism: Finding myself.

One of the art forms that really draws me is abstract expressionism. It was a post world war II movement in America and slowly caught fire. Though I do like impressionism and surrealism to an extent, abstract expressionism gives me leeway and the freedom to interpret it on my own.

Expressionism is basically outward portray of what one feels inside, the psyche and mindset of a person at the given time. The fact that it gives a viewer the liberty to make what they want out of it is the reason why I love abstract expressionism. It lets me plunge deep into myself and find answers within the texture of the painting, answers juxtaposed between the overlapping of two colors.

I’m thinking of lines and forms of lines. Lines of color blending into each other, forming an amalgamation of a million different emotions at once, forming a visual arena of skewed though process. I can see my thoughts and feelings withing those lines that overlap, within those curves those lines make, the bright colors that capture and guide my visual gaze. I’m thinking of fluidity..the movement of color, subtly, into each other. Moving and flowing and taking me along with it. I’m thinking of dots and shapes that come together to form a visual entity, a face of someone lost in so many colors. A face drowning amid those colors, the colors pulling it in, consuming it, till it forms a part of the painting and colors. A face trying to find itself among those million colors. Trying to resuscitate..Trying to break free. The black curves are the paradigms we try to break time and again.

I’m thinking of colors. Red..Blue..Green..Each telling me how I feel. Each combined with the others dictating my thought process. Swooping me down a cesspool at times..& soaring with me to the heavens at times. I’m thinking about forms the lines make. The sound the lines and shapes meeting each other make..Metallic at times and swishing, the other. The texture makes me angry..the rough texture creates a frenzy in the mind. It makes me anxious. It takes me on a roller coaster journey..from anger to anxiousness to irritation and finally bliss. The rough texture reminds me of the scars from war, the aftermath of destruction.

The pain stroke getting light, losing color as it progresses gives me the feeling of being incomplete. Like missing a piece of puzzle. The trail of a fading paint stroke reminds me of the journey I haven’t yet completed. It thrusts me forward and invites me to finish it..Begs me to find the missing piece and make it whole again.

The paint that mixes with the adjacent line by mistake, a color drop where it wasn’t needed makes me happy at times, for making mistakes & then learning is what we do when we were kids. It reminds me of my childhood, my mother, my father and my sister. I find my family amid the careless drops of paint..I find joy in the little white spot that landed up there by mistake. I’m thinking of fluidity again..how beautifully the blue effortlessly merges with the white and black to give a line, a curl or hair that very subtle, gentle and ethereal almost transcending look as if it was meant to be that way..As if without it, the painting would have been incomplete.

I’m thinking of shapes, dots and lines crossing each other. A fiery red cutting a thick black. A blue dot covering a green dot. A war within itself. A war within the self, within the ideals and WITH the ideals..A fight to decide the fate..to outsmart the other..within the fucking being and self. A fight to break free and look outside. The green dot wants to see..Look at the world. Wants to grow. The green dot holds on..the red line cannot and DOES not let go because it’s difficult to let go. It’s difficult to live without the green dot..Without the red line. Even if they don’t meet..To break free.

I’m thinking of answers. Within the colors. Within the limits. Within the self conflicting emotions. Within each line, shape and dot. Within each blend of two colors. Answers. I lose myself for hours. Staring at that board of answers..Staring at the painting. Staring at the questions..Staring at a visual entity of my feelings, listening to the sound of my emotions and feelings, listening to the conflicts that exists within me as they exist within those multi colored dots. I lose myself introspecting.

I find myself in an abstract expression painting.

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Exam update-1

I would like to announce to my now 498 followers, that yours truly has survived the semester end exams, save one. (On Monday). Everything was good. Expected a bad Marketing paper cause i’m an ex (?) science student. But my lack of intellectual retrogression ensured a fine Marketing and Principles of management semester paper :D Although English was fucked up as hell -.- Literature has been my ambrosia and it just sucks that that’s the paper I fucked up. I really don’t want a backlog.

In other news, i am in love with Edward Degas’ “The absinthe drinker”. Stared at it for full 0.5 hour with REALLY sad violin in the background. And I swear I thought I cried. It’s capturing. Visual treat. Perfect mix of colors, coarse texture and genius use of negative space. You tend to embark on this long transcendental sad trip with a million things screwing your thought process.

The woman has this sarcastic smile on her face as she scorns at her darkly humored life, probably going, “Really. I have the awesome-est life ever man. No, belieeeve me you”. (Ok maybe I just spoilt it). But she looks like someone who’s in deep thoughts, reflecting over life and it’s pages, reminiscing her past and scorning at her present.

And I really want to get into this long art appreciation prologue but I need to sleep.

 

 

 

“0 Oysters, come and walk with us!” The Walrus did beseech.

“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, Along the briny beach”


Absinthe Drinker

The infamous Absinthe Drinker by Edward Degas


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