Quotessence
Home / Topics / Artistic Quotes

Artistic Quotes

Browse 1422 quotes about Artistic.

Related topics

Artistic Quotes

“I absolutely treasure this uniqueness, this brilliant originative impression, that I have surrounded within my imaginative curiosity. I'm gonna prevail and continue the aesthetic uniqueness of myself. I'm gonna become the next modern D.L. Lewis. I will stay calm, keep smiling, let doubters keep doubting themselves, and keep God as my number one superiority. Nothing will be impossible! I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

“The human mind’s innate ability to imagine and create ensures that we never remain stalled out in who we are. We constantly seek to amend our circumference and circumstances, craft and redraft our emotional, social, political, economic, and artistic being.”

“The artistic creation of the poet, painter, photographer, and writer is a reflection of the artist’s inner world. The agenda of consciousness that spurs all forms of art is not to represent the outward appearance of things, but to portray its inward significance to the creator. A great poem, painting, photograph, and written composition fully express what the creator feels, in the deepest sense, about the distinctively depicted image that captured their imagination.”

“Allow your inner artist to develop through the conscientious application of passion, personal resources, and natural inquisitiveness. Devote your life’s work to giving light to your virtuous ideas and accomplishing deeds worthy of entering Elysium Fields. While performing elemental labor to meet the biological necessities that secure survival, remember that devotion to public services, performing acts of kindness, and engagement in artistic creations is what makes us human. Art has a more profound impact upon civilization than all the standing armies in the world. Art expresses our humanity while warring reveals our inhumanity.”

“I fancy my father thought me an odd child, and had little fondness for me; though he was very careful in fulfilling what he regarded as a parent's duties. But he was already past the middle of life, and I was not his only son. My mother had been his second wife, and he was five-and-forty when he married her. He was a firm, unbending, intensely orderly man, in root and stem a banker, but with a flourishing graft of the active landholder, aspiring to county influence: one of those people who are always like themselves from day to day, who are uninfluenced by the weather, and neither know melancholy nor high spirits. I held him in great awe, and appeared more timid and sensitive in his presence than at other times; a circumstance which, perhaps, helped to confirm him in the intention to educate me on a different plan from the prescriptive one with which he had complied in the case of my elder brother, already a tall youth at Eton. My brother was to be his representative and successor; he must go to Eton and Oxford, for the sake of making connexions, of course: my father was not a man to underrate the bearing of Latin satirists or Greek dramatists on the attainment of an aristocratic position. But intrinsically, he had slight esteem for "those dead but sceptred spirits"; having qualified himself for forming an independent opinion by reading Potter's Aeschylus, and dipping into Francis's Horace. To this negative view he added a positive one, derived from a recent connexion with mining speculations; namely, that scientific education was the really useful training for a younger son. Moreover, it was clear that a shy, sensitive boy like me was not fit to encounter the rough experience of a public school. Mr. Letherall had said so very decidedly. Mr. Letherall was a large man in spectacles, who one day took my small head between his large hands, and pressed it here and there in an exploratory, suspicious manner - then placed each of his great thumbs on my temples, and pushed me a little way from him, and stared at me with glittering spectacles. The contemplation appeared to displease him, for he frowned sternly, and said to my father, drawing his thumbs across my eyebrows - 'The deficiency is there, sir-there; and here,' he added, touching the upper sides of my head, 'here is the excess. That must be brought out, sir, and this must be laid to sleep.' I was in a state of tremor, partly at the vague idea that I was the object of reprobation, partly in the agitation of my first hatred - hatred of this big, spectacled man, who pulled my head about as if he wanted to buy and cheapen it. ("The Lifted Veil")”

“Remember, the village idiot was the spiritual man who built the ark and saved his family. Keep being you and never give up marching to the beat of your own drum!”

“I have zero tolerance for the use of AI in any aspect of human creative endeavor. We can make a separate space for AI art, but AI trash passed as human art, is an abomination of creativity - for our imperfections bear the keynote of truth. Art is a testament to human struggle - remove the human, and it's art no more. Either you are an artist or you use AI, you cannot do both.”

“An author’s operating charter is to unearth embedded symbols that reflect complementary and inconsistent relationships of our collective assemblage, combine harmonizing and contradictory conceptions that motivate us, and delve larger truths out of variable and erratic elements of human nature.”

“I had zero idea of what I was doing.. I honestly had no idea where to start. All I knew was I had something I craved to say.. I wanted to create art that lived on longer than I do. Perseverance and teaching yourself, every day through stress and hard work proves shit really does progress without you realizing. One minute you're an amateur, knowing nothing, not even the basics. The next you can put pen to paper, write a song, and create art in such little time! It's crazy beautiful.”

“For artists, obsession obviously comes in handy. It not only gives us the energy and power to create the artistic object, but it fills up our minds in a way few other things could. But can obsession fill the death hole? Of course not, though maybe it is out of nothingness that we all begin to create. If the world doesn't exist then we will make our own world. Maybe all this fever of creation, this need to be special, this frenzy--what Thomas Wolfe called an "enormous task of excavation" of self--this creation comes at least in part out of the terror of pure emptiness, the terror of the end. The need to fill the void, to make something out of this vast sense of nothing. Extreme fear of oblivion creating extreme creation. We hurl ourselves against the death void.”

“The paradox of wokeism is that, in its quest for inclusivity, it often becomes exclusionary, shutting down conversations deemed uncomfortable or offensive. This narrowing of acceptable discourse harms the essence of free speech, as it places arbitrary boundaries on what can be said or joked about. Comedy, in particular, serves as a barometer for societal norms and challenges our preconceptions. Suppressing comedic expression not only hampers artistic freedom but also stifles the very laughter that can bridge divides and foster understanding.”

“Instead of being regarded as intelligent or knowledgeable, many a woman would rather be regarded as beautiful or good in the kitchen; many a man, as handsome or good in bed.”

“Our wings were clipped, our restrictions were made, our boundaries were tested but now we are free, aren’t we? We look above in the sky at the birds and hope to be free. But the birds make their nests in the trees high above, to protect themselves from predators. Free birds must keep looking over their shoulders the same way all of us have to”

“All writers are demonic dreamers. Writing is an act of sharing experiences and offering of an individualistic perspective of our private attitudes pertaining to whatever topics of thought intrigues the author. Writing is a twitchy art, which attempts to employ linguist building blocks handed-down from past generations. Writers’ word choices form a structure of conjoined sentences when overlaid with the lingua of modern culture. Writers attempt to emulate in concrete form the synesthesia of our personal pottage steeped in our most vivid feelings. Writing a personal essay calls for us to sort out a jungle of lucid observations and express in a tangible technique our unique interpretation of coherent observations interlaced with that effusive cascade of yearning, the universal spice of unfilled desire, which turmoil of existential angst swamps us.”

“The human brain acts as a mere transducer of electrical energy. Our senses are on full alert when we are in danger. In contrast, when we are relatively safe and secure, our senses tend to slumber, making the world pass by analogous to a fuzzy dream composed of meaningless impressions. Inner turmoil causes energy surges in the brain. A spontaneously convulsing brain is an artistic brain. It is useful to write whenever one is in pain or feeling particularly introspective. Trauma awakens us from a sedated life. A clicked on brain displays greater sensitivity to the synesthetic perceptions that fill life with a diversity of sounds, colors, tastes, tactile feelings, and odors.”

“Art is the newly sprung river that keeps flowing at its own pace, based on its own unconditional knacks, passion, and its nature. Nature itself is art, and as such, art can be found in everything that belongs to nature. And in the world we live, there is nothing that doesn't belong to nature, for everything is nature, hence, everything is art. Even science is art, when it flows pure and free - literature is art, when it flows pure and free - mathematics is art, when it flows pure and free. Any act of the mind that flows pure and free, is art, for freedom is the soul of art.”

“Wokeism's impact on free speech becomes pronounced when it leads to the cancellation of individuals expressing opinions, even through the medium of comedy. Comedy, with its ability to dissect societal norms and provoke thought, should be a space where diverse perspectives flourish, free from the constraints of cancel culture. The suppression of comedic expression not only stifles artistic freedom but also hampers the collective ability to navigate complex issues through humor, hindering the open exchange of ideas that is vital for a thriving society.”

“She preferred the quiet solitary atmosphere, to create in her own world of paint and colour, the thrill of anticipating how her works would turn out as she eyed the blank sheets of paper or canvas before starting her next masterpiece. How satisfying it was to mess around in paint gear, without having to worry about spills, starch or frills, that was the life!”