Most of the jewels of contemporary art are abstract, are nothing if not the imagination and the unconscious. Are designed primarily to vibrate the strings of the mind through magical changes of chrome or brush; modern era of cold reason, the artist knows that the representation of human affairs, purely and simply does not excite, and even inspired him, would become be empty without theatricality , might be called representation flat passion for the pecuniary. Would again pop-art forever, you would see paintings as posters, from vintage to contemporary avant-garde, would sottoarte consumption. Art of the truth and popular approval of the possession, art of two-dimensional appearance. The real modern, to deserve representation, it should at least blunt the corners there will be no fuzzy boundaries. The drama of suffering is unique, it is poetry, this world is a fire that emits no heat, tears stingy.
Figures necessarily be abstracted from natural forms to tend to something that is clearly not the truth, rational response is grossly in the form of genius, the canvas is abuse, the bodies are deformed, the colors play crazy. And 'the era of madness you want from the normal.
Never before has the artistic genius must represent the will of the spirit of research, the constant yearning for metaphysical needs, should be a refuge from noluttà , frantic search for beauty, behind the emotions of the senses lies the truth: sackcloth and honey mix , enjoy the fruits of the garden of the world. Relativism in the banking, art, needless to fame, it becomes crucial, the Chancellor of the cosmos, its deformation breaking the vicious schemes of modernity could soar through the maze of the system. It has the body needs and spiritual to talk about the unconscious, to customize it, to feed him, to distinguish it, making it not only drives discarded container of dirt, but long for emotions: "I slept, I slept, a deep sleep I woke up, deep is the world "(The song of the night owl ).
With the secularization of values \u200b\u200band the twilight of the absolute truth by the majority of men has been barred access to the emotions, the impulses mystics. It 'was the rationality of pathological predetermined shape shown by the system; from here, the picture is baptizing the underground rebels of thought: the new cult in which lie among the ruins could be a mixture of strokes put there at random, in which are hidden needs and unconscious feelings that the vernacular of modern society rejects. The alien must be stripped of a canvas in the fray, tearing the veil of hypocrisy. Why is it in nature and magic of fleu real glimpse of the infinite. Along the stream of tradition. Liberalism crossed the horizons of dawn, blinding the view of the beyond, but the longing for the abyss is endemic in the strings of those who believe the stars dancing.
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