Night Dance-Adam Hurst
Vladimir Volegov Art
Art and Heart
Though critics may bow to art, and I am its own true lover,
It is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over.
Though smooth be the heartless prayer, no ear in Heaven will mind it,
And the finest phrase falls dead if there is no feeling behind it.
Though the poet may spend his life in skilfully rounding a measure,
It is not the artist's skill which into our soul comes stealing
And therefore I say again, though I am art's own true lover,
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
From Poems of Passion (1883)
Though perfect the player's touch, little, if any, he sways us,
Unless we feel his heart throb through the music he plays us.
Unless he writes from a full, warm heart he gives us little pleasure.
So it is not the speech which tells,
but the impulse which goes with the saying;
And it is not the words of the prayer,
but the yearning back of the praying.
With a joy that is almost pain, but it is the player's feeling.
And it is not the poet's song,
though sweeter than sweet bells chiming,
Which thrills us through and through,
but the heart which beats under the rhyming.
That it is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over.
Pino Daeni Art
The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanely sensitive. To them… a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create — so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, their very breath is cut off… They must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency they are not really alive unless they are creating.
Pearl Buck
Vincent Van Gogh Painting
What am I in the eyes of most people — a nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person — somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right, then — even if that were absolutely true, then I should one day like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart. That is my ambition, based less on resentment than on love in spite of everything, based more on a feeling of serenity than on passion. Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me. I see paintings or drawings in the poorest cottages, in the dirtiest corners. And my mind is driven towards these things with an irresistible momentum.
Vincent van Gogh
Vladimir Volegov Art
Whether it is the beautiful that brings to our hearts the love of truth and justice, or whether it is truth that teaches us how to find the beautiful in nature and how to love it, in eather case art does a noble work. It drags out the soul from its everyday shell, and brings it under the spell of its own mysterious and wonderful power, so that a memory of this experience stays with the people, sustains them in their daily labors, and refines their minds.
Helena Modjeska
Vladimir Volegov Art
Art
In placid hours well-pleased we dream
BY Herman Melville
Of many a brave unbodied scheme.
But form to lend, pulsed life create,
What unlike things must meet and mate:
A flame to melt—a wind to freeze;
Sad patience—joyous energies;
Humility—yet pride and scorn;
Instinct and study; love and hate;
Audacity—reverence. These must mate,
And fuse with Jacob’s mystic heart,
To wrestle with the angel—Art.
What a wonderful montage! Bravo.
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