Art marks us as human. Its purposes hark back to human needs.
Art engages. It pulls us out of our reverie and asks us to pay attention to it. Sometimes it asks subtly; sometimes it demands. We study the piece, its angles and contours, its shading and hues. We ponder the meaning. We decide we like it or we don't, and we find ways to describe why or why not.
Art speaks. Art expresses emotions, emotions we feel uncomfortable talking about, and evokes emotions in the viewer. We feel emotions we may have buried or forgotten. We identify with a work of art because of its ability to evoke emotions.
Art transcends. Art comes to mean more than the idea, the skill, the sweat that goes into creation. It becomes an ideal, an inspiration, a door into the unexplainable. It puts us in touch with something bigger than us, if only for a moment, before our minds ground us on earth again.
Art expresses both the creativity and desires of our humanness and our inexplicable tie with divinity.
(Note: I just discovered that Lent has more than 40 days, or else I don't know how to count. Easter Sunday is on the 21st, and today's the 12th, and I'm on day 38. Apparently, this is because the Sundays are not counted. Who knew?)
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