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Of Work of Art

You are here: Home / Life / Of Work of Art

September 5, 2019

A work of art; I love this phrase. I’d like to think that we are all individual canvas, getting perfected with every passing day. Yet, the interesting thing is that perfection does not exist. So no matter how good you are at something, how much time you are given, how great the resources are, the state of absolute perfection will never be realised.

I like the fact that perfection does not exist. Because that only translates to a possibility that you can always get better, improve, innovate.

Life is Art

I believe art is the highest order of anything. And life is a work-in-progress masterpiece.

We exist as a canvas sheet, and the journey in life is to fill this canvas to create the best version of the masterpiece. Each adventure is a stroke, each person is a splash of colour, each personal growth is a new perspective on the canvas.

Perfection though, what about perfection? In art, perfection can be known as the golden ratio or some basic 1/3 math formula that Da Vinci figured out. It is the ratio that is the most soothing to our eyes, hence we deem it “perfect”. Yet, most of my favourite pieces are not about math formula or perfection. It is perfect just as it is. (Starry starry night, Pietro sculpture, my favourite piece of art that I found in the museum near Givenny, France)

Yet unlike art, life is a continuous canvas that is being improved and worked on. It only stops at our last breathe, where we have completed the canvas.

Perfection Doesn’t Exist

Since life is a work of art, and perfection in art is just as it is, I think it is a continuous effort to hone and shape life to be the way we want it to be.

Read: My definition of perfection

It’s a strange paradox — to accept and understand that good is good enough, yet knowing that you can always find ways to be better and keep improving.

Perfection does not exist. It is a balance between acceptance and continuous work. It is an art form, to live life this way. This art form can be perfected, but the art (life) itself has no perfect state.

And that is why I hate it when people associate me with perfection. How could you be a state that does not exist? It also limits one’s mindset to thinking that there is nothing left to be worked on. How obnoxious is that. I’m a deeply flawed person, and I accept that. At the same time, I’m continuously editing and improving my canvas to be the best version it can be.

Life is a work of art. Edit it frequently and ruthlessly. There is no reason to conform to someone else’s rules on the canvas, for that is his canvas and his to work on. Perfection does not exist, and that translates to improvement exists.

Love,
L

Ps: You’re a work of art. Not everyone will understand you, but the ones who do, will never forget about you. 

Of Gratefulness
Of Death

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