Lately, I’ve been going through an existential crisis. I’ve been trying and trying to think what am I to do. What’s my purpose, why am I doing the things I do, why do I think of and struggle , paddling my limbs in pursuit of growing in wealth and experience, why? Just why about anything and everything? I don’t know what to do, what’s the future. What’s my present for? Why is my brain so self concious , and able to percieve itself?
It’s self debilitating. The ability of the mind to think the what and whys of its own thoughts. And I know most of the people don’t understand my rambling, the obvious causes may be the reason of my inability to put my thoughts into words eloquently, or the reader’s inability to relate.
This self questioning made me go down a spiral of why’s, while the background music played “na tum Jano na hum” from “Kaho na pyaar hai”. This seemed ironical and I chuckled. As if the universe was answering the Why’s in its own musical way. I love that song, man.
The spiral of why’s made me ask myself the fundamental questions about existence. That is, what makes me happy?
The answer was simple, creation. Making something out of my hands, creating something out of different materials, an object appearing slowly but surely out of thin air.
I think everyone can relate their childhood when they made things out of clay. Mixing different colours of clay, making animals, dolls, and elaborate creatures that the imagination could come up with. Dear heavenly God, i get it. This was fun for you. Emphasis on for you.
I now understand God’s perspective of making man. He moulded man out of clay, creating his piece of art. maybe he did all of that because it’s just so damn fun.
Anyway, yes. I guess one could explain how one feels when they create something new, or if one were to summarise it, they were making “art”. Ie. Bringing their imagination to play and bringing it to life.
And it led me to come to a conclusion that art is what gives meaning to this diurnal existence. It’s why artists when in their habitat of making their imagination come to life, lose track of time, hunger, and sometimes sanity too. They’ve found the meaning of living. It is to create.
I realised, the process of creation brings happiness. Happiness and love, Love to the hands that made this possible. Love to the raw materials involved in creation of something new. Love to the aesthete admiring the creation.
I mean, this is incredible. You created this. What didn’t exist before now exists. And it’s all because of you. Maybe this is what a parent feels when it looks at its baby for the first time. It is a product created out of them. It’s their piece of art. Because ultimately, art is creating something that never existed before you made it be.
Therefore, dear reader, in conclusion. I shall bid thee adieu with a little trick in case anxiety of life and of your future arises. Go and Create. May it be music, food, art, or heck, a blog. Just let your minds creations all flow into existence.