Art

“Please don’t sing. Ever.”

Kimberly Munikwa, my sister.

(She wasn’t the only one. I too said that to myself when caught singing in public.)

I’m not moved by much. My attitude towards most things is the usual default enthusiasm associated with my character thus far. My likes are ubiquitous… but give me art. Then it’s a whole different ball game.

I used to think Art was just the class I averaged a D in high school. But it’s so much more than that. By definition, art is:

‘The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.’

Art has emotional power: in the form of music, paintings, literature, dance and a combination of all of these culminates into animation, movies, video games etc. This fascination with art isn’t unique to me either. Just glance at that list and you’ve got what the majority of humankind wants to do with its time, the majority of what humankind will spend money on.

And yet we scoff at Art majors…

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hamilton

 

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6 Degrees of Separation

Sticking to song titles this is one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite bands: The Script. When you are separated from something or someone you love deeply you may undergo some of these symptoms, more than aptly described by this talented group of artists.

 

“First, you think the worst is a broken heart.”

True line I believe. I think everyone has a different timeframe before it suddenly hits. You’re no longer tied to that person but your emotions – your heart – disagree. That hurts: what’s worse is you think it’s the worst part but it’s not.

 
What’s gonna kill you is the second part.”

The song never does state what the “second part” is. Unfortunately (or should I say fortunately) I don’t have enough first-hand experience to write from first person viewpoint but I can try assume what this is. It’s probably the memories of all the good things done together rushing through one’s head… and the realisation that it all came to nought.

 
“And the third, is when your world splits down the middle.”

You see them at every turn. They are in your mind’s eye the whole time and like some kind of stubborn cancer their memory just won’t go away; even when you try the not-so-chemo-therapy from friends and family.

 
“And fourth, you’re gonna think that you fixed yourself.”

“I’m fine now. I’m ok. I’m better off without them.”

You say it once, twice. Maybe you even start to believe it.

 
“Fifth, you see them out with someone else.”

How can they move on so quickly? Don’t they feel what you feel? You dread to ask but have to nonetheless:

“Was it… was it ever real?”

 
“And the sixth, is when you admit that you may have messed up a little.”

“I wish I’d never…”

Both regret and acceptance.  The ache remains but the separation should be complete.

PS I really enjoy listening to this song and would suggest you give it a listen, preferably the clean version because the original does have a word or two you wouldn’t want to hear a toddler saying.