Saturday, June 11, 2011

1506 : The blood that moves the body

Photography, sculpture, poetry (and hence the written word), music (and hence the spoken word) – all seem to move me….so much so that I find myself revisiting my favorite poems, photographs and music again and again and again.

(On a side note, never quite enjoyed movies that much…especially the current streak of them. Its over a year since I saw any movie at all Smile)

To me all of them are nothing but the innate desire of every human being to capture time – as in to stop the arrow of time and in essence crystallize it for forever, trap the moment in a body.

What's magical about these experiences (at least to me) – is the fact that the original creator wrote these poems or clicked the photo with some interpretation in mind – and with a clean idea to capture a slice of the current life as it stands ; when someone else like you and me read it – we essentially are trying to live the same trapped moment through the poet’s eyes – and most times a large set of the audience almost gets its right….or at least real close.

Isn’t that weird – two strangers managing to share a thought, capture life through a shared photo, a shared poem….and both vicariously living through it.

These are the moments I sit and marvel at the beauty of uncle universe….it seems built for allowing connections – for unusual synapses.

Books choose their authors; the act of creation is not entirely a rational and conscious one. – Salman Rushdie (you can replace books by photos, poems and whatever else)

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