Sunday, 4 August 2013

AN OXYMORON IS A PERFECT PAINTING

PRE-DETERMINED TEMPLATES
An Impromptu Essay
Not Required Reading
Unasked for Writing
Beware of the Power of Words
By Izzy Ess of Messy, Exciting Chaos

The jigsaw is a template and as such inhibits creativity because it is so pre-determined.  Of course, for lots of folks, it is so satisfying to spend, labouriously, lots of time assembling the completed picture, already on the box.  Underneath what folks observe as orderly and predetermined is a chaos that excites and comes together randomly to form an image or strong feelings or a concept never seen before.  Emotions are by definition quite illogical and not as predetermining as logic of perfectionists, a straight line sequence of events and facts that satisfy the unemotional condition of perfectionism.

Poetry may have a predetermined pattern of expression but the poet strives to break the rules to emphasis the strength of feeling in his concepts, mostly strongly full of feelings, not pre-determined thoughts that are contrived to be the truth.  A poet often thinks in circles, not straight lines.  An aboriginal will tell a story with the punch-line first and then contrive to work around the strong emotion of his punch line to elucidate the strong emotions that were evoked.  A westerner tends to tell a straight line story with the punch-line at the end so that it seems that it is predetermined by the joke or story.  It often makes perfectionists quite angry that an artist will not make his images like photographs, instead of like impressionists and abstractions who try to represent a feeling, not a fact.

Why are artists overjoyed about Picasso or Van Gogh or Manet or Monet or Braque or Marc Chagall?  It’s obvious that these great painters do evoke emotions and chaotic underpinnings of the facts.  How else can we explain why women with two eyes on only one side of her head are sold so widely and displayed with grand exuberance?  Of course, there is the marketing by salesmen who are just motivated by the money they can get.  And, of course, some artists are good market people and they seem to sell, no matter what.  Picasso was an entrepreneur as well as a great artist.  Van Gogh never sold a single painting, yet now his works are the most expensive of them all.  Vincent’s turmoil comes shining through each work he’s done, including those churned out each day he painted.  He was in touch with chaos and was able to exemplify it, brilliantly.  Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Beethoven and the other great emotional composers were all bipolar, brilliant and in trouble.  Their life-styles were exotic and quite unpredictable.  In general, perfectionists can’t tolerate a moody, unpredictable bipolar person.  He says and does things which do not fit with his idea of the way things really should be, in his authoritative opinion of perfectionism in all things.

A schizophrenic or bipolar child does frequently break up a family whose members are determined to adjust their children’s attitudes to be mirrors of their own.  Some haven’t an idea about how their striving for an unemotional mind set is deadly for a child that has some contact with the underlying chaos that is there for everyone.  They feel that conquering their true emotions will make them perfect robots, driven by internal or external pressures to fit into a predetermined image of themselves and those they think are perfect, too.  Their love is quite conditional.  It’s heard in homes throughout the world.  “I’ll love you if you do things exactly like I do them and think exactly like we do.  Otherwise you’ll make mommy or daddy angry or sad, fearful or vengeful. “  Worse, they may reject a bright and creative child for fear it will affect family members, not unlike a fear of lepers who have contagion.  What’s a kid to do?  Hardly can he stand up to the parent and reveal the chaos that he feels, the love he feels and how delighted he is with somewhat different things.  Most kids want love, need love and hunger for an answer to the chaos which is not forthcoming.  Lucky are the kids whose parents understand and nurture their experimenting with different ways to think and act.  Most kids are taught that different thoughts are evil and must be stamped upon.  In my opinion, chaos is as normal as order.  Making families operate smoothly, with laughter and enjoyment of each other, takes a special parent, especially if the kids are born with special talents for creating art and music, literature and philosophy.  If a person likes a life-like unemotional piece of art, then let him use a photograph, though he should be aware that photography is trickier than just clicking a button.  As the expression goes, cameras do, in fact, lie at times, whether accidentally or on purpose.  Be that as it may, a photograph is usually what a perfectionist admires.  Abstract paintings are disturbing to him.  They induce the same fear that a creative child induces.  They induce the same anger that a misbehaving child induces.

Thank you for listening to my random thoughts of what I feel about perfectionists, their thinking and behaviour.  If I’ve offended anyone, it was probably purposeful but not pre-determined.  I’m 75 and approaching blissful senility.  My stubbornness, a genetic trait, suggests I’ll get even more emotional about the stifling effect on folks like myself, by folks who are perfectionists.  And, there are more of them in my environment, than there are of chaos lovers like myself.  Perhaps I should move to join a group of aboriginals who love the land and its bountiful beauty, just the way it is.

Incidentally, if you think that a piece of creative writing has more to do with spelling and syntax than it has to do with content and emotion, then, you shouldn’t be reading this, because there’s lots of chaos underneath it all.  Plus, the syntax and spelling is corrected automatically by my stifling computer which doesn’t allow me to make up words or ramble on like I like to.  I still am able to override some stuff.  That’s my stubbornness talking.  I do admit that I love the special fonts with which I can play and the special and unexpected tricks it plays while I’m trying to complete a particularly long sentence or paragraph or essay, like this one.  Essays are generally tougher than fiction or poetry.  I hope this one tickles your fancy.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md
Welland, Canada

August 5, 2013

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