Define Art

Define Art with 3 Pictures

Nick Stone

art/ärt/Noun

1. The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.

                It’s a common misconception that art is something you have to draw, write, or paint, as if it’s bound by tradition. This isn’t true. Not at the least. Above you’ll see that by the English definition, if you made it, and it was born from a deep emotion or idea, it is art. You could even define art as the expression of emotion and/or feeling. This doesn’t mean it has to be beautiful to everyone, someone, or even yourself. A piece of art can be a hideous monster, as long as it crawled out of your mind and plopped down on a medium, you can take it to the art festival.

                Now I myself like to keep my studies of art restricted to things of beauty and inspiration. It gives me a bit more of a challenge that way. It’s inevitable that I’ll find pain, anguish, and angst. It’s as easy as walking out my front door in fact. I see that in the faces of the people I love on the streets. The clouds describe it with they’re effort to keep my skin from the sweet kisses of my long lost friend, the sun. It’s interesting how people will wonder why they can’t seem to escape from hurt and demise when they embrace that same thing, only giving it food to grow.

 I enjoy the thought how fast people are to denying the beauty and truth of something. For example, you will see above that there is an over developed photo of a carefully sculpted terrain, and if you passed this photo around, and described the beauty of this simple photo, a number of people would contort their face in disgust saying that the picture is poorly developed.

                In their eyes, yes, yes it is poorly developed. But to me, the one who it was made for, the beholder sees it differently. I see this same picture to be a nostalgic memory of my past. The deep red seeping into orange then yellow then transitioning to white digs deep into my heavily locked memory box and lifts out a time when I was free to roam and explore every inch of this present called earth God made for me. A time when I was fast to debate truth, righteousness, reality, and absolutes. It all just was. The simplicity of the land was a mirror of the space I had in my imagination.

 Subject number two has come to hold my fascination for the last year. This is a Nexus One, a product made by a major corporation to portray the extent of all their creativity and simplicity that can all that your finger tips can grasp. Looking at this marvelous slab of power, I see elegance, peace, solution, completion, and inspiration. The two tone color sported by the body of the phone tells me that it’s made to impress but not to boast. The aluminum structure assures me that it won’t fail me when my grasp fails it. The glass platform facing me say joyfully “I clean up quite nicely don’t I?” Is this art? My senses are suggesting yes.

To bring home the point is a saying deployed out of the mouth of one who’s inspired. The medium here is word portrayed on a canvas. Simple, yet powerful. A fitting summary of my essay.

The Best Moment of My Life

This is the first assignment I wrote for my Comp I class I have.

           In this essay I was asked to write a wonderful time in my life. What a subject I would love to talk about! The good thing about this is I get to talk about something I can relate to very well. The bad part about this is deciding on something specific. I can recall many wonderful times in my life, like that one time I experienced that perfect steak. But I think I will use this time to share THE most important and joyfull time I have ever had. Keep in mind though, this is a class that encourages free speech.

Most will probably respond with “I went to Disneyland once...” or “I dropped my books and this cute boy helped me...” or unfortunately “There was this hot chick at this party once…”. Hopefully you can relate to my experience to some extent.

The most joyfull, important, and unregretable experience in my life would be that single moment in time I unloaded the biggest weight on my shoulders to a God that can, will, and does single handedly, conquer everything and anything. The time I surrendered my entire mind, body, and soul over to a man that gave His very life so that I could gain mine. I can’t say there has been a moment since that I have, even for a split second, regretted this decision.

I remember it was a warm summer night spent with my crazy cousin. The cousin who I am very glad I don’t have to spend time with. The same cousin who thought it was a good idea to unload a paintball gun on me without a mask on. The very cousin who thinks a good time is the time spent not being able to think straight. Anyways, we were on our way to someplace when he asked me if I wanted to the “blue garage”. I was like “Sure, whatever.”. When I arrived what I saw where a bunch of kids playing foosball, running around, chilling on couches with loud, foreign music being played. After being there a short bald guy by the name of Louis Kosoulise, asked us all to come sit down. We did so and he started talking about God. The God I never had even thought of, never heard of, never experienced. The god I was familiar with was a god I had put together from a compilation of different churches my mom had taken me to with different religions. An angry-kid-with-a-magnifying-glass god was what I had gathered, not like I had really dived into any deep theological thought about the way God worked in the universe at the age of 13 anyways. After he had done his best to describe the magnificent love this God had for us and what He had done for us, Louis asked us if we wanted to hand our lives over this God. Considering my circumstances I made the jump. 

Oh, and was it was good.

Summer

Remember those days. Sun. Covered in sun. Everything soaked with warm. Cold losing the battle. Schedule wasn't in your vocabulary as you spent all day running, jumping, falling. Oh! How much bliss it was! All your days were spent playing, coming home, eating, and restlessly trying to sleep. So oblivious to worry. The place where God played with me.

I will never be accepted as Nickolas Stone. I won't be looked up to for inspiration. I will be a vagabond for as long as I walk this land. I feel my body should be cast into the depths of the sea as it's only home. My heart looks towards the the everlasting horizon for comfort, where I see my Lord waiting. My purpose, lost in translation. Yet to be spoken to my ears ringing with discouragement by many peers for years not to be counted. My only rest being at my knees face down waiting for a word to be spoken for the one who raised me from the dust I lay in.

I find inspiration in abundance but direction dry. Acceptance and praise far from the lips of my witnesses. They are disappointed when they look at the crown I can't stop casting upon my skull for there has yet to be a place for my hand to be place. No wrench to tighten a nut. No ear to catch my words spilling out of my mouth. When, oh Lord, will you bless me to be a blessing. Where is the end of my journey in which You've set me on? What is my destination? Where will I lay my thoughts down for you to clean away? When will my tears for the lost mean something? When will my love be allowed to spill over for the hands reaching out? God keep my head above water. 

How can this all be chance? How can the sky soaked in hues of pink and yellow be of anything other than the very blood of a man who had lived a horrendous life, not because He was a fool, not because He was weak, not because He was a man of addiction, but

because

He

loves

me.

He loves me right now. This very second. And the next second. And now this second. He loves me so much that when I needed a house He gave me a home. When I needed someone to cry to He poured friends into my life. When I was tired He blessed me with coffee, and if that wasn't enough when I was weak this being of all mighty, raw power became even weaker than my pathetic, rotting flesh just so this this Man can lift my head to reveal to me that despite all this

ugly I'm prone to the sun will still rise to comfort it.

Oh how my soul aches to be a father.

I look around and see all the innocent faces of the children of people. It makes my heart ache to hear a child cry. It makes me smile to hear one laugh. I can't but help but imagine all the things I will do to show my son I love him. I can't wait to be there to listen to his ideas and opinions. How I'm going to teach him everything God is trying to teach me. Oh how I enjoy the thought of holding a living person who has a living heart, a heart that I get to help grow. I can't wait to see God's face through a gift He will bless me with.

My worries resign in my family.

Lately I've been thinking about my family. Mostly because I'm going to see some of them for Christmas. Last time I saw them I was a different person. All my memories are me being unhappy and such but none the less now that I have grown up and found the source of love and happiness there has been a different source of unhappiness to accompany my new found love. Unlike the unhappiness I've felt in the past this unhappiness causes me to feel great sympathy and worry. It's the kind that makes my heart want to climb out of my chest and do something. This one particular unhappiness is caused by the lack of well being of my mother.

Although having a strange and unique relationship with my mother I still have an overwhelming love for her. Lately though my thoughts of her have been of a different subject than the usual. Recently my mother has been married, found a home, found a church, and found Christ. This is all good, but the deeper, unfortunate side of the story is that this is her third husband, she's finding herself unable to pay her rent, her church is not able to help her grow, and her faith is found in religion. My heart weeps for this woman as I want to hold her and show her the real love that God wants for her. But I'm miles away and it seems like a phone call will make me look foolish. I want to show her the treasures she has waiting for her. I want to show her the healing she can receive by just asking for it, appose to the medicine she's grown to rely on. I think of this book when I think about how amazing my mother is, and it makes me cry when I have a hard time seeing the hope in her future. I can only pray.