Fully realized, art is the practice of mysticism
The reality we know is the thoughts of the only consciousness there is. Call it Brahma. Call it God. Call it Eden. Call it The All. Call it whatever you will. When you understand what is told here, words and labels and names are beside the point
Each being that is born, is one splintered aspect of this consciousness that has forgotten it is — at its core — an aspect of the mind of The All.
As we grow from children to adults we are conditioned to focus on being the part — not the whole — for this delusion: the delusion of the distinct self is what empowers those who would use us to serve them. Divide and conquer is their modus operandi.
So deluded, we seek to define and embellish the masks and costumes of self we have constructed. This is the nonsense of races and nations, of religions and philosophies, of political parties and social causes. All of it is engineered to compel us to feed the artificial beast of ego so we will remain oblivious to our true nature and so submit willingly to war and toil for our masters in exchange for baubles and trinkets proffered by the idol of the false god they have erected — the economy.
The creative impulse, the impulse to art, is the most direct expression of our true nature. It is love not just for the splinter of The All we initially perceive ourselves to be, but it is an expression of the intent of The All itself through that splinter.
And so it is said, “starving artist!”, “You can not make a living doing that!” “Math is better than writing — and writing is better than art!”
Indeed, the opposite of all these statements is true!
But we are imprisoned by those who would use us to grow their power and wealth.
So we in-turn imprison and subdue the artists within us submitting instead to the pressure to assemble piecemeal the patchwork costumes of self we think will win us favour and fortune from others likewise writhing in the pit of drudgery and delusion.
Each must come to discover by what means they will light within others the lamp that withers that ancient, accursed fruit and shines brightly upon the many paths back to Eden.
Read the Andy Crowley Saga