Philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein says: " Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent." The painter, however, says: "Whereof I cannot speak, I will paint." Whereas Wittgenstein advises being silent about things we cannot speak of, we can skillfully use our hands and manipulate our thoughts.
Happiness is one of these premises you can't speak of.
The girl in the painting expresses a feeling: "Happy days are back again." We may all have experienced the special paradoxical feeling: "Happiness we have never been aware of, was felt as non-existent and, nonetheless, one day, is no longer there." "Happiness has been slumbering, has been absent in the mind and, all of sudden, bubbles up and is present again."
Could happiness not just be a phenomenon in our imagination or is it a result of an interpretation? The artist likes to confront confusing and inconsistent sentiments. We may question whether happiness should be exchanged or is it just our own business? Is it something individual, as the French writer Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian said: "Pour vivre heureux, vivons cachés": "to live happily, live hidden."
Bearing in mind the misery and poverty around, should happiness and success be hidden? By admitting to a pursuit of happiness, could it be a demonstration of selfishness and un-intellectual behavior? Could it, on the contrary, not work out as an incentive and motivation? Could it not be perceived as a definite challenge, when we give voice to our happiness? Could happiness not be contagious and, so, become a salutary infectious syndrome. A beneficial infection.
If we are fairly observant and overly patient, a vibration of happiness might crop up unwittingly, as we capture the "timelessness" of a lucky moment and sparkle of a stray instant, unexpectedly, enraptures our life in a blaze of color and splendor.
We need not be afraid of expecting the unexpected, but let us wheedle each instant we enjoy and endear each happy moment we encounter; let us watch each step we take and each move we make, ever since happiness is a kind and appealing fairy, but utterly frail and vulnerable.
We only realize what happiness is about after it has slammed the door to our inattention, and killing silence has deafened the tunefulness of our life.
If the dust of volcanic love has settled and the harshness of a new reality has become too oppressive, disillusionment may have to be mended, wounds to be healed and emotional fallouts to be taken care of, mindfully.
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Life Quotes and Paintings of Erik Pevernagie, Belgian painterSpiritual
Life Quotes and Paintings Of Erik Pevernagie, Belgian Painter, Life Quotes illustrated with the Artist's Pictures. "A piece of art comes to life when we can feel, it is breathing when it talks to us and starts raising questions. It may dispel biased...