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Post by pegasus on Jun 7, 2015 2:47:16 GMT -8
let me just start by saying i actually have no clue as to if this is placed under the right board, so if it isn't, please dear gad someone move it to the appropriate location. now i don't want to bother you all with real life shit explanation that we all struggle in, so i'll just say this: i'd been losing faith in myself, choosing the road less travelled and admittedly less appealing. (the arts = writing) coming from an asian family, humanity and arts is something like a hobby, doodling, not nearly as important as medicine, or science, to technology. (say amen if you can relate) but yo, this is not at all hating on those imperative disciplines, not at all. i'm sure we've all (or if you haven't, will) hit that spot in the road that makes you recoil and be like "holy fckshit what the hell is happening" and just scramble your head inside out and make you question everything you have ever thought definitive about yourself. i certainly was, for far longer than i would have liked, to the point where i wanted to throw the towel and say goodbye to rping forever. but then, i read eleanor and park by rainbow rowell, and for the first time in the longest time, my heart was moved. now don't worry, i'm not going to go over sentimental, gooey crap about it. but i will say that it moved me enough to write what i wrote below, during the flight, at 2AM in the morning. and i thought to share, because as writers, we struggle constantly between objectivity and subjectivity, and more often we disintegrate and hit the lowest point. let me tell you, if you don't already know, that it takes art, an unanticipated piece of art, to move us. (if that's not your theory, then cool beans bro. it just happened to me, so. cx) so i hope what i wrote below, could help anyone going through a difficult phase in writing, self-doubt or whatever, to keep ascertain of why we do what we do. muse and inspiration be damned, this profession crosses borders beyond what we can physically see. here's to the former beacons of light (authors/your guys' favourite authors/literature) and to us, steady rpers spending ridiculous amounts of hours in a community that enables us to grow, broaden our prospects and help enliven the real life we all inherently love and hate.
The profession of artists have only but one reality to uphold: that humanity’s first and foremost instinctive purpose is love.
Fear and anger remain in the territory of the uncharted and misunderstood, but the remainder of that truth is that love transcends everything. Realness is both quite terrifying and exhilarating when first touched, when first understood, when first felt with another’s heartbeat; as the ages go, and as the world revolves and seasons change however, realness sways in the dark, fading in the veil of misconducts and insecurities. Then is truly when realness is doubted when seen, feared when felt, for the summers pass and winters wail, and all that once was vulnerable and open and tender are shunned in the cold corners. For distress over notion of being torn, being hurt, for fear of being mutilated and ground and blown to dust.
Admittedly, I’d been wondering why writers existed; why someone would go to the extent of creating science-fictions and imaginary worlds and impossibilities. Why painters draw exaggerations and abstract clarities that speak beyond where the eyes can comprehend. Why dancers dance the way they do, as if electrified, as if a rush of ethereal tidal wave courses through their every fiber. For what purpose do these artists do what they do to help mankind?
In the road of progression, we look to inventors, doctors, scientists.
What road do we need these artists?
Let me tell you: to remind us of our humanity.
To tell us that imagination is limited only by the constraints we think to construe, that movement bellows through mind and body to touch the soul, that images are imprints of the heart’s rhythm.
What often is forgotten in this harsh world, where coldness is praised to subdue weakness and vulnerability. edit: i realize i may have sounded like i know most of you, and for that, no i'm not trying to be creepy y'all. i'm otherwise known as sazed, and i gathered some of you are in sites that i'm also on. though this is not at all inclusive to that audience, but just saying yo!
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Post by EY ✻ BECKET !? on Jun 7, 2015 12:37:08 GMT -8
OMG pegasus, thank you thank you thank you for sharing this c: As I was reading, I couldn't help but apply it to myself. It's probably the best explanation I've heard as to why the arts are so important, why I love them the way I do, and why I don't want to be a doctor, scientist, or inventor even though I am good at math and science. Most of what's in this little statement that you wrote is the entire mantra of my life. I just graduated high school last month, and am next going to college to be a music performance major. As such, when I get asked by others what my field will be and I tell them, they laugh and say 'oh, so you're going to be a starving artist then, huh?' That statement over the last few months has begun to infuriate me. Not only am I not going to be starving, I will be doing what I love. I might find that I need to cut corners with the budget on occasion and work menial jobs to support myself (don't we all?), and also true is that there is the danger that I might end up poor and stuck, but doing what I love outweighs that, for me anyway. In your piece I have to put 'musician' along with 'writer', because we share the same sentiments. Music is love. It touches us in a way that almost nothing else can, brings us to tears, leaves us speechless or brings us to our feet in jubilation; it's the same way for writers and roleplayers. Our characters are extensions of ourselves. I don't quite understand the push to go into a more "stable" career field, as my parents have always supported my love of music (though not always my endless hours RPing, haha) and I'm full blooded caucasian--American by way of Sweden, Ireland, Germany, and Scotland (though I'm not saying that the mindset is strictly limited to Asians), but despite that I believe that this is gold. And I completely understand the self-doubt and confusion. I went through a period like that myself last year.
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