Life and art.
While driving to work this morning, I admired the sunrise. Not just admired, but was moved by it.
In awe, actually.
I slowed almost to a stop at several points, just to look at it. Fortunately there was not a single other vehicle on my route through the countryside, so doing so was not a problem.
Not to be overly dramatic, but had that feeling been just a bit more intense, I could easily have wept.
A thread started a couple of days ago got me thinking about art, and realized that this morning’s sunrise had much the same effect on me as does a particularly fine piece of art. Visceral.
There’s certainly no way, given my skill and equipment, that I could have effectively captured that sunrise in a photograph. Honestly, I’m hard-pressed to imagine anyone truly doing so. So I chose not to try.
Which led me to ponder the question of whether or not this sunrise was, itself, art. And if so, who or what is the artist?
I am not religious by any definition of the term. My undergraduate degree is in Biology and Chemistry, and I tend to look at things through that lens. However, I have yet to hear a reasonable answer to how this all started.
I find it interesting that so much of our physical world inspires us humans to create art, mainly to capture what is arguably inherent beauty. Why is that so? What purpose, in the grand scheme of things, does that inherent beauty serve? And is it, in itself, art?
Anyway, that’s what’s on my mind this morning.
While driving to work this morning, I admired the sunrise. Not just admired, but was moved by it.
In awe, actually.
I slowed almost to a stop at several points, just to look at it. Fortunately there was not a single other vehicle on my route through the countryside, so doing so was not a problem.
Not to be overly dramatic, but had that feeling been just a bit more intense, I could easily have wept.
A thread started a couple of days ago got me thinking about art, and realized that this morning’s sunrise had much the same effect on me as does a particularly fine piece of art. Visceral.
There’s certainly no way, given my skill and equipment, that I could have effectively captured that sunrise in a photograph. Honestly, I’m hard-pressed to imagine anyone truly doing so. So I chose not to try.
Which led me to ponder the question of whether or not this sunrise was, itself, art. And if so, who or what is the artist?
I am not religious by any definition of the term. My undergraduate degree is in Biology and Chemistry, and I tend to look at things through that lens. However, I have yet to hear a reasonable answer to how this all started.
I find it interesting that so much of our physical world inspires us humans to create art, mainly to capture what is arguably inherent beauty. Why is that so? What purpose, in the grand scheme of things, does that inherent beauty serve? And is it, in itself, art?
Anyway, that’s what’s on my mind this morning.