WHEN Beethoven composed, or Rembrandt painted, did they produce their works in comfort and lethargy? What drove them to their masterpieces? Did they endear themselves to others and cause no offence, or just create to show their mastery? It is common for man to imitate if not duplicate the Creator as he expunges from his inner self a form of incarnation, in poem, or sculpture, or even mud pie or sand castle. Not all the works produced earn praise or timeless recognition, but every creative act, even those that cause offence, cleanse in a sense the pulsating, driving force to articulate the seemingly inexpressible. Is this not preferable to obliterating life, or devoting creative energies to forms of self annihilation? Since no readers are compelled to read or listen or give their praise, we think, and feel and write the lessons learned through schools of nights and days.
Posted on: Tue, 27 Aug 2013 23:25:18 +0000
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