Art, and the Fleeting Nature of Beauty

It is fascinating how the human mind's extension of nature is something so powerful. The ability to create art, or indeed any kind of craft; is not so inherently human however. Some of life's greatest artworks are those seen in nature; birds, fish and all manner of creature are so focused on their personal beauty, but unlike man never stop to contemplate their beauty self awaredly. The natural processes of the world so vigorously astound me, that often I can spend hours just looking out the window at whatever might be passing by.

What is it that urges the Universe to create such beauty within itself? The first answer that comes to mind, is beauty for beauty's sake. Beauty's tragedy is so woefully deep; the fact it never lasts forever saddens us so, but we often fail to see that is what makes it beautiful. Nothing that is beautiful is truly eternal, except perhaps that simple fact. The only true eternity is the inescapable truth that nothing is eternal. Perhaps existence then, is best described by analogy to music, and most completely by classical music. Music of a kind that does not attempt to say anything, or attempts to replicate the sounds of the world. It is the greatest form of music that speaks not a word, but conveys more than one ever could with all the words of human language; it conveys emotion. Music is by nature beautiful, but does not continue on forever; for it is the greatest of composers that knows that when a sound of quality conveys emotion, the length matters not. For while one is listening, and closes their eyes, nothing exists but for the melody playing with their heartstrings.

Music has a magical nature which allows it to be analogous to being; it has no purpose other than itself. The end of the concert is not what one goes to the orchestra to see, it is not the goal of the orchestra that makes it beautiful. If that were the case, then the quickest pieces would be best; one massive crashing crescendo, done as rapidly as possible, followed by applause.

In the same nature of music, being has no final purpose, nothing to be gained out of it but that which one feels in the present moment. Though, paradoxically, the drive for purpose, and the need to achieve what is perceived to be the ultimate goal is part of man's purposelessness. It is impossible to achieve the ultimate goal, but it is impossible to try not to achieve it, for as soon as one strives to not achieve, they are still striving. It is fascinating to observe the paradoxical nature of life, as one begins to see it pertains everything in existence. I find it a great mistake to see the truth of purposelessness, and see it as an excuse for apathy. Setting attainments, and playing the game that there is something to attain at all is one of the greatest parts of life, and refusal to do this in the name of the purposelessness of life is laziness. To see that life's purpose is none other than that of living one's life; whatever that life may look like, is true wisdom. The fact that there can be no meaning nor purpose in life, is intrinsically life's meaning. Do not fall into the trap of this sort of thinking that will make you feel that there is nothing to be done, or nothing to be said; for despite the fact that both these things are true, one must still do and say in order to live a happy, fulfilled life.

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