In-Class Topic #1

Do artists create doors and windows into their artwork? Do observers? How so?

Doors and windows into reality are both perceptions of existence. No matter how powerful artwork is, it will still be unappreciated--and inexistent-- to a person who does not posses their complete sensory faculties: vision, hearing, taste, smell, and touch. Additionally, even a person with normally functioning senses will appreciate artwork differently than another individual based on their own environmental, behavioral, and chemical palette that they carry with them through life to paint their surroundings. Some would call this palette personal 'aesthetics.' This variance in perception applies both to the artist and the observer. For example, the shifting use of colors from yellow to blue in Van Gogh's paintings has been attributed to the theory that he had depression or bi-polar disorder; however, who really knows what his eyes saw on his canvases and why? If one were to focus solely on a single psychiatric disorder, such as major depressive disorder (MDD), one would discover that 'perception' is not an objective term. In recent psychological studies, it has been demonstrated that depressed individuals have an impaired sense of smell and overcompensate with heavy use of perfume, they don't savor things that were once tasteful, and they even dream longer and more vividly than others. Due to the influences of our unique biochemistries and our resulting perceptual and emotional vantages, an artist may create metaphysical 'doors' and 'windows' for how their artwork is viewed or interpreted; yet, ultimately the keys and curtains are in the control of the observer.

Poem #2: Pi

I was
born, the combination
of thousands of genetic
variables; biological pi,
my destiny was limitless.

I became
a linear growth of
memories and actions,
serving not as variables
but as formulaic constraints.

I became
a straight line
plotted on a coordinate
system by society;
time independently
increased as the value
of my worth was judged
by standardized tests
and scholarly processing.

I always
wanted to see the Great
Barrier Reef, but it seemed
extraneous. My friend went
and showed me his pictures.
I never imagined such beauty
could vanish, it was beyond
my calculations. I would see it
another day.

I never
saw that beautiful reef:
two years ago, changing
ocean temperatures killed
the last polyp as it clung
to the rigid structure
it had spent a lifetime
to build. Final minus
initial now equals zero.

I am
on my deathbed, wondering
if I would have seen the reef,
were it still around yet
another day.

Poem #1: Surfaces

Surfaces,

the covalent playground
bears atomic friendships,
but through heated tension
amicable relationships become
decayed.

a school of sheltered children,
clicks of protons and electrons,
are confused when they learn
that they share fundamental
units.

familiar and ambiguous
shapes: I cannot understand
Gaussian surfaces, yet visible
ones prove to be even more
intangible.

membranes within me,
my thoughts ride waves
of sulci and gyri; yet
I cannot reduce love to a
material.

immutable, are echoes
of laughter from Heisenberg
and Einstein which resonate
as we attempt to attain the
unattainable.

having energy which can
not be created or destroyed;
in death, my body will lose
shape and give birth to new
surfaces.