Gostei muito deste texto! E explico porquê! Porque é, sem dúvida, com amor que um "artista brioso e apaixonado" pinta a vida, mesmo que no amor haja um "certo" (na verdade, muito!) grau de exigência. Ao mesmo tempo, não duvidemos que o artista pode ser cada um de nós... é arte intemporal, bela, majestosa, mas simples, aquilo que podemos criar em nós e nos outros!
Ao mesmo tempo, porque é ao colocarmos as "telas" das nossas vivências em paralelo com as riquezas de Deus, nossa referência, que compreendemos a extensão da nossa capacidade de pintar deste mundo, um quadro melhor! Se existe harmonia entre a obra de um e de Outro, então caminhamos para a perfeição, sendo que não nos procuramos "endeusar", mas antes compreender que no amor nos assemelhamos a Ele. Assim sendo, pelo Amor, não tenhas medo de sujar as mãos com tinta; não tenhas medo do pincel; não tenhas medo de preparar a tela; não tenhas, em suma, medo das riquezas de Deus. Ele fê-las para ti!!! Que uso lhes dás?E o que estás disposto a pintar, para que esse "quadro vivo" mantenha a sua beleza original, pautada pela alegria e pela harmonia? Puxa por essa palete! É hora! Que o Amor prevaleça...com o teu entusiasmo, com o teu sorriso e com a tua convicção apaixonante.
In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love. All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites.
When I am finishing a picture I hold some God-made object up to it / a rock, a flower, the branch of a tree or my hand / as a kind of final test. If the painting stands up beside a thing man cannot make, the painting is authentic. If there’s a clash between the two, it is bad art.
If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing. Will God or someone else give me the strength to breathe the breath of prayer and mourning into my paintings, the breath of prayer for redemption and resurrection?
The dignity of the artist lies in his duty of keeping awake the sense of wonder in the world. In this long vigil he often has to vary his methods of stimulation; but in this long vigil he is also himself striving against a continual tendency to sleep.
Only love interests me, and I am only in contact with things that revolve around love.
Marc Chagall (July 1887 – March 1985) was a Russian artist of a devout Jewish family, born in Vitebsk.
When I am finishing a picture I hold some God-made object up to it / a rock, a flower, the branch of a tree or my hand / as a kind of final test. If the painting stands up beside a thing man cannot make, the painting is authentic. If there’s a clash between the two, it is bad art.
If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing. Will God or someone else give me the strength to breathe the breath of prayer and mourning into my paintings, the breath of prayer for redemption and resurrection?
The dignity of the artist lies in his duty of keeping awake the sense of wonder in the world. In this long vigil he often has to vary his methods of stimulation; but in this long vigil he is also himself striving against a continual tendency to sleep.
Only love interests me, and I am only in contact with things that revolve around love.
Marc Chagall (July 1887 – March 1985) was a Russian artist of a devout Jewish family, born in Vitebsk.
A força está nas vossas mãos... Que ela pinte o céu, as estrelas e que consigam ser luz do mundo!
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