Best 22487 quotes in «art quotes» category

When people communicate deceit, it's called politics. When people communicate honesty, it's called art.

When she started with the first empty canvas, she didn’t know what she was going to paint, she just let her paint brushes glide and they religiously followed the trajectory of her angst; the choice of colours and the strokes, they were all a reflection of what was going through her mind. The reds were the embers within her that refused to die. The blues were the rare instances when she was spent by her grief. The blacks were her moments of absolute weakness, the colour of the bottomless pit within her that she had plunged into, falling through and through. The brush strokes moved around blank canvases like snakes with fangs of elixir that filled her scars with a deluge of hope and a gale of faith in herself. The colours spoke to her in whispers, narrating their own tale while she poured out hers to them. They allowed her to channel her life through them. They listened. They cared. They laughed. They cried. They reassured her that there was life waiting ahead, staring at her past, urging her forward with eager arms. And Preeti rushed into them with her brush in hand that rose along with her and fell along with her.

When something comes from within, when it is a part of you, you have no choice but to live it, to express it.

When the creator sees the illusion of fame for what it is, it loses its power over him.

When the artist leaves a painting on a wall with the full confidence that the mastery of his skill, soul and vision will draw others into its vortex long after he is gone, he is using the grip of seduction. When the musician’s performance, the manipulation of her instrument and the command of her talents are so raw and uninhibited that onlookers feel connected to the cosmos, bridged by the pure genius they are now experiencing, she is using the mystery of seduction. The unexplainable feeling fans get when the athlete ceases to be an athlete and rises to the level of the untouchable magician that can make anything happen, is nothing less than the power of seduction at work. The immense value of seduction is its ability to skillfully allure others into one’s world . . . .

When the ideas or forms we need are banished, we seek their residues wherever we can trace them

When the melody plays, footsteps move, heart sings and spirit begin to dance.

When the form's in place, everything within it can be pure feeling.

When the music comes, you try to see it shining between your eyes. Like threads stretched taut and the notes as colored beads threaded on. When you get very good, it's as if you can see inside the music, through it. You bring the music alive, bring it into being. As if you're the one composing.

When the rest of the mind has fled, sometimes there’s music left.

When the writer (or the artist in general) says he has worked without giving any thought to the rules of the process, he simply means he was working without realizing he knew the rules.

When they were in school, Peter used to say that everything you do is a self-portrait. It might look like 'Saint George and the Dragon' or 'The Rape of the Sabine Women,' but the angle you use, the lighting, the composition, the technique, they're all you. You are every color and brushstroke.

When Van Gogh was a young man in his early twenties, he was in London studying to be a clergyman. He had no thought of being an artist at all. he sat in his cheap little room writing a letter to his younger brother in Holland, whom he loved very much. He looked out his window at a watery twilight, a thin lampost, a star, and he said in his letter something like this: "it is so beautiful I must show you how it looks." And then on his cheap ruled note paper, he made the most beautiful, tender, little drawing of it. When I read this letter of Van Gogh's it comforted me very much and seemed to throw a clear light on the whole road of Art. Before, I thought that to produce a work of painting or literature, you scowled and thought long and ponderously and weighed everything solemnly and learned everything that all artists had ever done aforetime, and what their influences and schools were, and you were extremely careful about *design* and *balance* and getting *interesting planes* into your painting, and avoided, with the most astringent severity, showing the faintest *acedemical* tendency, and were strictly modern. And so on and so on. But the moment I read Van Gogh's letter I knew what art was, and the creative impulse. It is a feeling of love and enthusiasm for something, and in a direct, simple, passionate and true way, you try to show this beauty in things to others, by drawing it. And Van Gogh's little drawing on the cheap note paper was a work of art because he loved the sky and the frail lamppost against it so seriously that he made the drawing with the most exquisite conscientiousness and care.

When Van Gogh painted The Starry Night as a swirling mass of cosmic energy, he may have been painting what he saw with neurotic eyes, but he was also painting what he saw with transcendent eyes. The first gave his painting mere form, the second gave it formless, universal emotion that connects directly to the viewer.

When we ask ourselves, “What is it that makes one work of art good and another bad?” we might initially wonder if there is any satisfactory answer. Upon mature consideration, however, we can at least conclude with a reasonable degree of certitude that since the function of art is to unearth some particle of truth, good art must be good in consequence of its revelatory capacity, and bad art must be bad, conversely, because of its failure to engender revelation.

When we drug ourselves to blot out our soul's call, we are being good Americans and exemplary consumers.

When we create, we become stronger. When we create, we feel better. When we create, we can use our own two hands to create a new world. And this new world will be as we want it to be.

When we give ourselves permission to go wherever our outlandish thoughts take us, we feel that rush of creativity and excitement.

When we step onto the bridge, Nathan turns and spreads his arms out wide. ‘Welcome to Pont des Arts, a.k.a. The Lock Bridge.

When we show up to make art, we need to get still enough to hear what wants to be expressed though us, and then we need to step out of the way and let it. We must be willing to abide in a space of not knowing before we can settle into knowing." pg. 159

When we spend time in the Psalms, we are learning how to explore the depths of who God is. They are a library for our spiritual language. They show us how to speak of hope, loss, grief, victory, love, and failure — but more than that, the Psalms show us how to call out to the God who is present in all.

When you create something let the life come out of you.

When you do away with God you become your own god, because you recognise no greater power in the universe than yourself.

When you explain an art to someone, you destroy an imagination that was about to catapult in them, and you destroy a place which they were about to build in their mind. Let them see it through their heart without the bounds of time. Through many memories of their life and through the heart, mind, and eyes of their loved ones. Through a mind, that break the constraints of all their thoughts and through the pain, lies, and happiness that they hide inside them. Let them open their wings and get into the portals, which will take each one of them to very different places from the one that you exist.

When you get right down to it, lots of things that look fancy are easy to do, and lots of things that seem easy are hard, even if you're very creative and a good artist.

When you find your passion, turn a deaf ear to the naysayers and follow your dreams.

When you go out to paint, try to forget what objects you have before you, a tree, a house, a field or whatever. Merely think here is a little square of blue, here an oblong of pink, here a streak of yellow, and paint it just as it looks to you, the exact color and shape.

When you learn to have the heart of praise in the presence of your enemies, you set the table; if you can work with God in darkness enough depending on the light that He showed you in the last season, you will learn to read your enemies as a sign that it is time to eat. ( a bit deep). Whenever you sense a crisis in your life, note that your harvest is near.

...when you look at a photo or realistic drawing of a face, you see it as the face of another. But when you enter the world of the cartoon, you see yourself.

When you master the art of work, then your life becomes a work of art...and you're the artist and no one else paints your life for you.

When you read someone's poetry, you carry their pain. When you listen to their music, you carry their soul.

When your world seems like falling apart, an inspiration is something you can always hold on to.

When you speak of my insanity, please let it be with the beauty only art knows. Let it bleed till it becomes creativity and maybe, just maybe, for that single moment my soul will finally be adorned in its own skin.

When you see a fish you don't think of its scales, do you? You think of its speed, its floating, flashing body seen through the water. Well, I've tried to express just that. If I made fins and eyes and scales, I would arrest its movement, give a pattern or shape of reality. I want just the flash of its spirits.

When you think about new-born babies being killed in our own lifetime,' he said, 'all the efforts of culture seem worthless. What have people learned from all our Goethes and Bachs? To kill babies?

When your life is stormy, take a refuge to a port: To music or to literature, in short, to art, to any kind of art!

When you've found your inner artist, suddenly nothing is ever finished

When you transplant a rose, transplant the reddest one.

When you view your world exclusively through the lens of science, your prescription will never be strong enough.

When you want to see great art look deep into nature. You will see the grass, clouds, plants, flowers, trees, mountains, valleys, rivers and the seas. You will see art that will leave you speechless! And this art is created by nature.

Where did the genius come from? Where did it go? Like allowing another lover into the house to live with you, someone you’d never met but whom you knew he loved more than you. Poetry every day. A novel every few years. Something happened in that room, despite everything; something beautiful happened. It was the only place in the world where time made things better.

Whereas painters of the early and middle 1400s enriched their own (and their countrymen's) understanding of the Gospel by recreating it in reality, their successors used this technique to study (and broaden) their entire world view. Hieronymus Bosch mastered a whole genre by merging the realism of Flemish painting with fantastic allegories of the human condition. His pictures of vermin and birds in men's clothing, atrocities, and weirdly juxtaposed objects use the realism of the earlier masters as a means of stark caricature. It was in this form, the most extreme possible, that character and moral differentiation were introduced into the realm of realistic depiction.

Where reasoning fails to do justice to the expression of the soul, there begins the uncharted territory of art.

Where there has been true science, art has always been its exponent.

Where there is a true art and genuine virtuosity the artist can paint an incomparable masterpiece without leaving even a trace of his identity.

Where utility ends and decoration begins is perfection.

Where you see scars I see art Where you see flaws I see incredible beauty Where you see failures I see knowledge and growth Everything is perception You see with your eyes I see with my soul It’s how you rock And how I roll.

Whether keenly striking or laughably awful, contemporary art is rarely unentertaining.

Whether it's trying to convince others that something is more true, more virtuous, or more desirable--all communication is rhetoric in action.

Whether you try too hard to fit in or you try too hard to stand out, it is of equal consequence: you exhaust your significance.