Art Works in Chaos

Nothing affected me more than an influential artwork. It doesn't matter how disturbing, how compelling, how forceful, how annoying, or how gloomy. I always braced myself for emotional shocks that these fine arts raged. This afternoon was no difference.

Have you seen red bubbles drawn in lines that represent a gruesome accident? Have you seen a realistic painting about how human experiment was operated, with some bisect body and a cut-off head? Have you seen an abstract that symbolizes a horrifying war? Have you spent time looking at an aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in drawing? Have you felt a powerful drawing that portrayed a deep gray sky with factories underneath? Have you seen a stripped naked man, strapped with firecracker and red ink, being filmed in front of camera? While each firecracker was exploding, pieces of them and the red ink went gushing. Have you seen this video that showed us how terrible and inhumane gunshot killing is?

I have felt all these emotions all afternoon. I have buried these emotions in my mind. They were haunting me with images and my own imaginations. I was trapped in my own world, and tried to break free from the darkness of my heart.

The darkness of my heart didn't prevail, however, because there were plenty of joys and daylight complementing the negativity, and pulling me away from the dreadful spiral.

There was a woman, symbolizing a house wizard, walking into a door, closing it, and climbing over layers of a wall. There were people, in a video, walking past one another only to show how our living world is just like a hallway. There were lines and dots connecting little galaxies, which made them a little time machines. There were tilted statues that could be straighten while screwed on tight. There were paintings giving me views to waterfalls, mountains, and babmoos. There were many more sarcastic, laughable, cute, and beautiful works shown among series of seriousness.

My emotions were pulled from all directions, and clashed in the middle of my body. I felt the beating, and took time to digest. I walked outside the door, and felt the sunshine and breeze. I looked at the beautiful young models from a graduation project, and were preparing for their runway walk. I saw people running around carelessly, and enjoying life. These scenes added to my thoughts, and slowly merged with other feelings in my head. They entered me, and eventually became mine.

It was great to be able to feel. It was great to be able to think freely. Yet it is the greatest for one to have the ability to digest such vast amount of creativity. I was nowhere near that state, but I was trying.