The greatest art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain. - Lord Byron
You know, I often feel a deep urge to recite poetry, but then I remember that I can’t even sing along to a song without forgetting the words–and I’m brought back to reality. It’s something I’m working on, trust me, one day I’ll stand up in a restaurant, scream out to the crowd of people wanting to enjoy their meal in peace to listen to me, and I’ll recite Shakespeare.
That’s the ideal life, isn’t it? Not caring what others think of you, living life for the aesthetic, being a mage-like creature, mysterious, ever-so-often disappearing and then turning up again. It’s the life of the wanderer, and I’ve seen it everywhere. You know the type of person I’m referring to, the one who can’t settle down, wanting to see the world, the one who wishes to own a bookstore, go to cafés in the morning, walk their dog in the rain. It seems to be a beautiful life, but be careful, as it could very well be a shallow one.
It’s the danger all artists face, as when you’re a poet, painter or dancer, you want to be remembered as a moment. But moments are gone so very soon. Even as I’m writing this, I realise I’m attracted to that sort of aesthetic, being here and then gone, leaving something behind, letting others think that I’m a deep thinker who sees and feels everything so differently.
It’s the want for sensation, to feel like a river. I think it’s something we all desire a little bit. As artists, we want to feel the pain, the passions, the feelings that are strong, but not lasting. Why do you think so many artists of history have committed suicide?
There’s something about losing yourself which is so intriguing to a human. It’s what artists, the representatives for feelings like to explore most in life. In a way, it’s the most life-threatening thing you can do, to think and feel things so very deeply.
But we do it anyway, because how else are we supposed to live? How are we supposed to love and feel and cry? We all wish to be here a little longer than we could, but the beauty of life is exactly how short it is. It makes us pick our moments.
It makes us make our choices. Live holding our moments in our hands like fragile porcelain, hoping they won’t fall because it’s the only thing we really have. Because if we lose our moments, we’re losing ourselves.
Which is, as I said before, what we’re all so attracted to. See the paradox?
Things such as these are complicated to debate, and what I believe, is that, as humans, we need to live in the moment, but not get lost in it. We need to respect, that a moment is all we have sometimes, of course we have more than one, but a moment is just that, a moment–and soon it will turn into a memory.
So, please, if you can, carry your moments in your backpack.
But don’t look back if they fall out on the way.