I found it quite interesting to find the right subject when it came to practicing the art of writing. A little different from a pen or a paper but the idea was all the same. And then a breeze of loss between sanity and insanity caressed my mind and I found myself somewhere, torn between drowning and flying in fountains yet skies of philosophy, literature and all that gave life its essence and mystery. William Shakespeare once said: “A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.” It is far hard to know what all these amazing artists were experiencing when they put in words the storm in their minds and the damaged pieces of their soul, yet if we are lucky enough perhaps someday, we could feel it ourselves. Some might consider it a blessing, others a curse. Some turn it into breath-taking beauty, others into an abrasive path. Yet the thing about it is that no matter how they mirror it, the reflection of a broken man is a placid state to those who choose to see it. For the shattered pieces shine at their brightest under the moonlight when the night is at its darkest. It’s proven ,isn’t it? Decades, even centuries have passed and still the art of these human masterminds keeps on inspiring and taking over millions of wandering souls and the spirits of those who have the potential to enlighten others’ paths someday. Art is the outcome of every thought, every feeling, every cell of the body that come together, put inside an infinite moment of transcendence and sent into the universe of mystery like a flying eagle that has just discovered the sky. And I strongly believe that art is our own pair of wings allowing us to fly above fields of new perspective where we start discovering the heat of the frozen and the cold wind that has become one with the raging fire. Nevertheless, going into another universe through the gates above is not the only course or direction that art leads us to. Sometimes instead of flying, we drown. And that small rush of adrenaline gives us that flashback of our entire life of which some people speak. But in the artist’s case, it’s far more than his ephemeral life. He goes back to the roots and essence of life itself. He goes into philosophy, literature, the past and all that had been discovered and profoundly wondered about ,and goes as deep as the fountains in which he realizes that he has come to enjoy sustaining the water’s pressure. In many cases, artists are considered out of the ordinary, or accused of having a knotty mind which proves to be there just to nourish the mind of the audience .and that way proves the belief that says: “Out of the worst comes the best at its best.” No matter what kind of art we practice, it is the most valuable thing we have; not owning it temporarily, but cherishing it within ourselves and struggling for its sake, not letting anyone take it away from us. It takes all we have and most importantly reflects all we are. Carla Gurunian 11th Grade January 20, 2015
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ՄԵՆՔՄեսրոպեան Վարժարանի Աշակերտներ Արխիւ
April 2015
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