Philosophical cow dung on the life of little Ms. Imperfectly Fine.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Picture Perfect

I've always like visual arts, paintings, photography, scupltures and such. I guess I'm a sucker for things that contain beauty, mystery and honesty. The three things I can never live without. But, as much as I appreciate art, I can't draw, I can never be so good at taking pictures and scuplting would be a no-no since I don't like being around sharp objects that much. I'm practically hopeless I guess.

That's why, I'll jump at the opportunity to be a part of any photography projects. Even though I'll only be the model, it feels good to contribute something in the name of art. Yeah, not to mention the fact that sometimes, Little Ms. Ana can be Little Ms. Vain.

There's something about pictures that can move people in such a way, that anything that touches them is forever imprinted in their minds. Whatever comes afterwards shall be based in that last masterpiece and sometimes nothing is ever enough. You always want something more and more. You never get tired of it.

I used to love using this phrase,

"Oh my God, it's so beautiful. It's perfect like a picture."

It could be the view of the heaven's day wheeling into night, or cotton-candy clouds parading in the sky, or tall sharp skyscrapers like ladders to the top of the world, or two beautiful little boys spinning in circles and laughing when they fall, or one's hand casually resting on another's wrist feeling life coursing through her veins. Yeah, I am sentimental.

Acat once asked me why I would say that silly thing, and I remembered my thirteen year old philosophical self telling him,

"Because, can't you see? It's perfect, like a picture. One artist swift move and the moment is there, caught in time. A pretty picture is perfect because one look and you can see that time had stood still to allow a piece of perfection to escape from nothingness."

Please note that those aren't my thirteen year old philosophical self own words. I can't remember them exactly but I bet the substance was there. Although Acat argued it with me, it was just dismissed as that.

How do you measure perfection? You can't. Perfection is imperfect. Since nobody is perfect, why should one hope to be nobody? Being human and imperfect fits perfectly. But perfect like a picture are the little things that may not be perfect but somehow, it just is. Something without a flaw is a flaw onto itself. Like Gomez Addams of the Addams Family who can't seem to fail at anything, he fails at failing so that's an accomplishment. I know, I'm not leading anywhere and I've said the word perfect with its variations too much already. Shall we move on? Perfect!

By the way, I'm starting my own photography project, with the help of Justynn's Nokia. Check my page out in the links.