Seeing nothing

Art is seeing things no one else does. From nothingness comes beauty and a stream of endless creativity.

I came across this piece of work in one of the many alleyways in Melbourne. Like most of the graffiti there, it was insightful and stunningly beautiful. But it was more than just eye candy. It made me stop and stare. Even after browsing through countless alleys and numerous shades of black and brown and everything else in between, after taking photos from all angles that my camera could twist into without losing its stamina, this art stopped me in my tracks.

It was powerful because, unlike most art you see on a daily basis, it stood out in a different way. It requires the viewer to look at it from a certain point of view. From close by, the art is nothing but a bunch of oddly stuck pieces of paper with strange ink marks. From close by, it’s easy to assume it a worthless waste of space. You have to be far enough looking into the art to see it for what it is. You have to have a mind and eye open enough to entertain the possibility of blending a physical product with a patchwork figurine. 

And that’s what good art does to you. It makes you consider aspects you’ve never considered before, see visions you’ve never envisioned before, and feel emotions you’ve never thought you were possible of feeling.

Art forces you to become aware of what’s around you, in such a way that you start sensing the wetness of the dense air that hangs right above your shoulders, like a ghost’s arm, invisible but so clearly present.