Dancing Through the Abstract: Embracing the Magic and Mysteries of Life

Ah, abstractness! It's like a dance for your brain, where you get to see things from a gazillion different angles like a kaleidoscope. It can be mind-opening, but let's be real, sometimes it's also exhausting. We humans have this incredible superpower of perceiving abstractness, and not only that, but we can use it to shape our beliefs and desires.

I stumbled upon this mind-blowing painting by Claude Monet at the MFA (that's the Museum of Fine Arts, by the way). Instantly, my eyes zoomed in on those reddish-orange parts. They were screaming for attention! And boy, did they baffle me. I was like, "Why on earth did Monet choose such a prominent color? What's the hidden meaning?" And then, near what I thought were sunflowers, there was even more red. It was like a color explosion. Now, not everything has to make sense, but there was something about the deep greens at the bottom, contrasting with that striking red, that got me hooked.

But here's the thing. Once I stopped overthinking and took a step back to see the whole painting, a magical moment happened. I spotted a sunrise in the background, with the colors getting brighter near the sun. Ah, the dots were connecting! The reddish-orange parts were probably just the sun's shadows playing tricks on us. How fascinating is that?

And then, my imagination kicked in. I noticed a little boat in the distance, with people rowing their hearts out. And I couldn't help but wonder: what were those folks thinking? Were they as blown away by the beauty around them as I was? Or had they seen it all and become a bit numb to the wonders of life? Maybe they had worked tirelessly all night and were finally heading home. The answer, my friends, is up to interpretation.

You see, each person's perception is like a fingerprint—totally unique. We all have our own way of looking at the world, shaped by our experiences, morals, and philosophies. It's a bit like abstract art itself. Sure, others can observe and interpret our experiences, but only we truly understand their depth. It's easy to get caught up in what's right or wrong, but here's the kicker: our sense of morality can't be measured against some universal benchmark. It's something deeply personal, derived from our own encounters. Our early experiences become the building blocks of our lifelong perspectives. Trippy, huh?

Now, here's where it gets really mind-bending. Ever heard of moral relativism? It's this wild idea that what's considered good in one culture or context might be seen as downright awful in another. Crazy, right? But hey, this blog isn't about finding the ultimate truths of humanity. It's simply my take on things—just one interpretation at a specific time, in a certain culture, and from the perspective of little ol' me.

People often counter moral relativism with something like, "But hey, certain things are universally true, like murder being bad." Well, yeah, I'm with you on that one. Taking someone's life is a big no-no in my book. But hold on a sec. When you think about it, aren't we humans just another species on this magnificent planet? Sure, we might be more self-aware than our fellow critters, but does that make our lives inherently more valuable than theirs?

Now, let me share a mind-boggling poem with you. It's called "Ozymandius" by Percy Bysshe Shelley. It tells the tale of this super important dude from back in the day. He thought he was all that, ruling with power and wealth. But guess what? Time passed, and all that's left is a broken statue in the middle of nowhere. Talk about a reality check!

As a wide-eyed kid, I simply wondered why anyone would create something in the middle of nowhere and let it crumble away. I mean, what a waste, right? But as I've grown older, I've come to realize the true essence of the poem. It's a powerful reminder that our achievements, no matter how grand, are temporary. We're just tiny specks in the grand scheme of life's evolution. As Plato wisely mused, "must not all things in the last be swallowed up in death?" It might sound gloomy, but trust me, there's more to it.

It's about embracing the ebb and flow of life, accepting that we and everything around us are meant to fade away. In the grand scheme, we can't judge whether it's good or bad, but in our own little bubble, we can acknowledge truths like the impact of global warming on our planet. We can learn from history, too. Take the ancient Mayan civilization, for example. They probably believed they were the bee's knees, paving the way for future generations. But guess what? Their society collapsed, and we're still not entirely sure why. Disease? Environmental factors? Who knows?

So here we are, my friends, trying to make sense of this wonderfully abstract existence. Maybe Monet used those reddish-orange hues just because they looked pretty. And perhaps that traveler in the poem wasn't a pessimist, but someone who found wisdom in the fleeting nature of human achievements.

The truth is, none of us have all the answers. We're in this together, you and I. But one day, we'll all fade away, and that's okay. The grand mysteries of life will remain elusive. We'll continue to interpret our own versions of truth while embracing new experiences and the perspectives of others. Who knows? Maybe within someone else's unique viewpoint lies the key to what we're searching for.

So let's embark on this marvelous journey, my friends. Let's marvel at the abstractness of it all, dive deep into our perceptions, and weave a tapestry of understanding—however fleeting it may be. Together, let's explore the magic and mysteries of this crazy world we call home.

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Ozymandias poem photo - https://www.bl.uk/learning/timeline/item126940.html

Photo taken by me, painting by Claude Monet if that isn't clear yet lmao