cry for the artist

(this next piece is written for and upon the request by Jaren Dalida
for what ever purpose it may serve her.)
“Cry for the artist.”
Today we live in a world of great progress. A world where the people converse with one another but not necessarily see each other. A world of business and entertainment right at the tips of your fingers. The cutting edge of technology has led us into an easy lifestyle. No more worries on word usage because of “spell check.” No more hassle calculating geometric shapes for architecture because of “auto-cad.” No more struggles on getting the right lighting for a photograph because there is always “photoshop.” I a word, indolence.
Do not misjudge, I have nothing against progress. Thanks to technology our output has become much stronger and our decisions much wiser. But what I speak of is the life of the future.
I know of a child who is only six years old. He knows his way around the computer. He knows the programs, the games, the application and such. I could even say he is a genius. But what about this child’s appreciation for beauty? His world revolves around computers and gadgets that he has not noticed the the beauty of the elephant carving hanging above his television set. He is so enthralled by the “reign of chaos” and “frozen throne” that he has not noticed the flavor of his dinner that his father cooked for him.
I remember a time when children picked up rocks because it strangely looked like faces. A time when a child stood in awe of a star apple hanging from the tree because its color was contrast to the sky’s. Those were the times when even the youngest of children appreciated beauty, love and arts. And These inspired them to be poetic, beautiful, artistic and loving themselves. That was the time of the artists. A time that, I fear, is growing old and slowly dying.
Is this the fate of our children? To drive around that rotunda on a daily basis and not notice that there is a fountain there? To live so fast in an even faster lane and not stop to read the powerful verses written on the pavement by a beggar on the streets?
This world is vastly overwhelmed by industrial and utilitarian arts that we slowly start to ignore beauty. My fear is not the lack of appreciation for beauty but the will to create some thing beautiful and the lack there of.
I am not trying to preach. But I believe we could teach these children. I believe that we could make them get of that computer, “PSP” and mobile phone. I believe that we could convince them to grab a pencil and pad, to write, to scribble, to sketch, to sculpt and to create something of beauty. That a new generation will rise and once again enthrone arts. And generations to come will still heed these thoughts. To create a wave of beauty and arts that will stand as a marker for every man, woman, and child that in them are beauty and poetry. Regardless of what you do for a living, you are artists. And with this, a hope that one day, in this industrial waste land, forever will resound the cry of the artists.

-Orville “chubby” Basas