Transient Art Quotes

The republican principle demands that the deliberate sense of the community should govern the conduct of those to whom they intrust the management of their affairs; but it does not require an unqualified complaisance to every sudden breeze of passion or to every transient impulse which the people may receive from the arts of men, who flatter their prejudices to betray their interests.

Art is long, life short, judgment difficult, opportunity transient. To act is easy, to think is hard; to act according to our thought is troublesome.

If there is any intelligence guiding this universe, philosophy wishes to know and understand it and reverently work with it; if there is none, philosophy wishes to know that also, and face it without fear. If the stars are but transient coagulations of haphazard nebulae, if life is a colloidal accident, impersonally permanent and individually fleeting, if man is only a compound of chemicals, destined to disintegrate and utterly disappear, if the creative ecstasy of art, and the gentle wisdom of the sage, and the willing martyrdom of saints are but bright incidents in the protoplasmic pullulation of the earth, and death is the answer to every problem and the destiny of every soul--then philosophy will face that too, and try to find within that narrowed circle some significance and nobility for man.

Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent; it is one half of art, the other being the eternal and the immovable.

Meet this transient world with neither grasping nor fear, trust the unfolding of life, and you will attain true serenity.

The only road to freedom is self-education in art. Art is not a luxury for any advanced civilization; it is a necessity, without which creative intelligence will wither and die. Even in economically troubled times, support for the arts should be a national imperative. Dance, for example, requires funding not only to secure safe, roomy rehearsal space but to preserve the indispensible continuity of the teacher-student link. American culture has become unbalanced by its obsession with the blood sport of politics, a voracious vortex consuming everything in its path. History shows that, for both individuals and nations, political power is transient. America's true legacy is its ideal of liberty, which has inspired insurgencies around the world. Politicians and partisans of both the Right and the Left must recognize that art too is a voice of liberty, requiring nurture without intrusion. Art unites the spiritual and material realms. In an age of alluring, magical machines, the society that forgets art risks losing its soul.

the story of Issa, the eighteenth-century Haiku poet from Japan. Through a succession of sad events, his wife and all his five children died. Grieving each time, he went to the Zen Master and received the same consolation: “Remember the world is dew.” Dew is transient and ephemeral. The sun rises and the dew is gone. So too is suffering and death in this world of illusion, so the mistake is to become too engaged. Remember the world is dew. Be more detached, and transcend the engagement of mourning that prolongs the grief. After one of his children died, Issa went home unconsoled, and wrote one of his most famous poems. Translated into English it reads,      The world is dew.      The world is dew.      And yet.      And yet.

Understanding the OODA loop enables a commander to compress time - that is, the time between observing a situation and taking an action. A commander can use the temporal discrepancy (a form of fast transient) to select the least-expected action rather than what is predicted to be the most effective action. The enemy can also figure out what might be the most effective. To take the least-expected action disorients the enemy. It causes him to pause, wonder, to question.

Loneliness is difficult to confess; difficult too to categorise. Like depression, a state with which it often intersects, it can run deep in the fabric of a person, as much a part of one's being as laughing easily or having red hair. Then again, it can be transient, lapping in and out in reaction to external circumstance, like the loneliness that follows on the heels of a bereavement, break-up, or change in social circles.

The art world is largely mistrustful of shiny things and, on some level, even fearful of them. But if sophistication is the ability to put a smile on one’s existential desperation, then the fear of a glossy sheen is actually the fear that the surface is the content. Fear of sheen is the fear that surface equals depth, that banality equals beauty, that shiny objects are merely transient concretizations of the image economy, and proof that Warhol was correct—a fact that still seems to enrage a surprising number of theoreticians

A flower is beautiful as it is, transient, full of colour and life for the time it blooms, but it's simple, shallow even. A flower is just a flower. But art? Art is a flower painted so it won't die. A flower on the skin of a woman with depth and texture to her soul? It's the context that gives it beauty," he spoke in a voice like velvet rubbing against my sensitive skin.

It had been off-hand and flattering, in exactly the proper proportions, and Louise had cleverly erected a thin shield of something that was less than and better than love to protect him from the comic, unending abuse of the Army. And, now, it was probably over. Women, Michael thought resentfully, can never learn the art of being transients. They are all permanent settlers at heart, making homes with dull, instinctive persistence in floods and wars, on the edges of invasions, at the moment of the crumbling of states. No, he thought, I will not have it. For my own protection I am going to get through this time alone …

Now, as words affect, not by any original power, but by representation, it might be supposed, that their influence over the passions should be but light; yet it is quite otherwise; for we find by experience, that eloquence and poetry are as capable, nay indeed much more capable, of making deep and lively impressions than any other arts, and even than nature itself in very many cases. And this arises chiefly from these three causes. First, that we take an extraordinary part in the passions of others, and that we are easily affected and brought into sympathy by any tokens which are shown of them; and there are no tokens which can express all the circumstances of most passions so fully as words; so that if a person speaks upon any subject, he can not only convey the subject to you, but likewise the manner in which he is himself affected by it. [...] Secondly, there are many things of a very affecting nature, which can seldom occur in the reality, but the words that represent them often do; and thus they have an opportunity of making a deep impression and taking root in the mind, whilst the idea of the reality was transient [...] Thirdly, by words we have it in our power to make such combinations as we cannot possibly do otherwise. By this power of combining we are able, by the addition of well-chosen circumstances, to give a new life and force to the simple object.

We are now face to face with the truly Ultimate Ambiguity which is the human spirit. This is the most fascinating ambiguity of all: that as each of us grows up, the mark of our maturity is that we accept our mortality; and yet we persist in our search for immortality. We may believe it's all transient, even that it's all over; yet we believe a future. We believe. We emerge from a cinema after three hours of the most abject degeneracy in a film such as ''La Dolce Vita,'' and we emerge on wings, from the sheer creativity of it; we can fly on, to a future. And the same is true after witnessing the hopelessness of ''Godot'' in the theater, or after the aggressive violence of ''The Rite of Spring'' in the concert hall. Or even after listening to the bittersweet young cynicism of an album called ''Revolver,'' we have wings to fly on.

I now principally allude to Rousseau, for his character of Sophia is, undoubtedly, a captivating one, though it appears to me grossly unnatural; however, it is not the superstructure, but the foundation of her character, the principles on which her education was built, that I mean to attack; nay, warmly as I admire the genius of that able writer, whose opinions I shall often have occasion to cite, indignation always takes place of admiration, and the rigid frown of insulted virtue effaces the smile of complacency, which his eloquent periods are wont to raise, when I read his voluptuous reveries. Is this the man, who, in his ardour for virtue, would banish all the soft arts of peace, and almost carry us back to Spartan discipline? Is this the man who delights to paint the useful struggles of passion, the triumphs of good dispositions, and the heroic flights which carry the glowing soul out of itself? How are these mighty sentiments lowered when he describes the prettyfoot and enticing airs of his little favourite! But, for the present, I waive the subject, and, instead of severely reprehending the transient effusions of overweening sensibility, I shall only observe, that whoever has cast a benevolent eye on society, must often have been gratified by the sight of humble mutual love, not dignified by sentiment, nor strengthened by a union in intellectual pursuits. The domestic trifles of the day have afforded matter for cheerful converse, and innocent caresses have softened toils which did not require great exercise of mind, or stretch of thought: yet, has not the sight of this moderate felicity excited more tenderness than respect? An emotion similar to what we feel when children are playing, or animals sporting, whilst the contemplation of the noble struggles of suffering merit has raised admiration, and carried our thoughts to that world where sensation will give place to reason. Women are, therefore, to be considered either as moral beings, or so weak that they must be entirely subjected to the superior faculties of men.

Today, elite cities often attract tourists, upper-class populations working in the highest end of business services, and those who can service their needs, as well as the nomadic young, many of whom later move on to other locales. This increasingly ephemeral city seems to place its highest values on such transient values as hipness, coolness, artfulness, and fashionability. These

Buildings are the unavoidable art, whether the high art of the architectural masterpiece or the rich vernacular heritage of villages, towns and cities. Their forms and details are absorbed mostly on the nonconscious level, yet they weave their spell on the mind without our consent. They influence mood and demeanour, especially when they tap in to the subterranean currents of archetypal symbolism. On this level they can transmit subliminal messages of reassurance. // At the level of aesthetics per se , can we justify the belief that there is a social value which extends beyond merely offering transient pleasure?

in the words of George Bernard Shaw, marriage inspired by love brings two people together “under the influence of the most violent, most insane, most delusive, and most transient of passions.

Resilient aesthetics and resilient beauty are terms that immediately sound like oxymorons, as beauty and aesthetically pleasing experiences and objects tend to con- note something fleeting, transient, and/or volatile. We are used to viewing beauty as something that fades, being synonymous with newness, youth, unwrinkled faces and garments, fresh flowers, polished tables, newly painted walls, and with undented floors—all of which diminish with age, usage, and wear. We are used to aesthetics and beauty being linked to the visual impression of an object.

One could in fact say that we fail at happiness to the extent that we are terrified of impermanence. Conversely, we approach happiness when we manage to enter into the erratic and vexingly fickle struggle of living with a degree of ferocity. This is the case in part because our capacity to tolerate life’s contingency—its accidents, chance occurrences, and stabbing moments of inner clarity—augments our ability to take pleasure in what is inimitable and irreplaceable precisely insofar as it is transient; it makes us uniquely receptive to the force and preciousness of the passing moment—the only moment where happiness as an existential aspiration can make any sense to us.

The path of Jnāna-Yoga, which has been described as “a straight but steep course,”4 is outlined with elegant conciseness by Sadānanda in his Vedānta-Sāra, a fifteenth-century text. Sadānanda lists four principal means (sādhana) for attaining emancipation: 1. Discernment (viveka) between the permanent and the transient; that is, the constant practice of seeing the world for what it is—a finite and changeable realm that, even at its most enjoyable, must never be confused with the transcendental Bliss. 2. Renunciation (virāga) of the enjoyment of the fruit (phala) of one’s actions; this is the high ideal of Karma-Yoga, which asks students to engage in appropriate actions without expecting any personal reward. 3. The “six accomplishments” (shat-sampatti), which are detailed below. 4. The urge toward liberation (mumukshutva); that is, the cultivation of the spiritual impulse, or self-transcendence. The six accomplishments are: 1. Tranquillity (shama), or the art of remaining serene even in the face of adversity. 2. Sense-restraint (dama), or the curbing of one’s senses, which are habitually hankering after stimulation. 3. Cessation (uparati), or abstention from actions that are not relevant either to the maintenance of the body or to the pursuit of enlightenment. 4. Endurance (titikshā), which is specifically understood as the stoic ability to be unruffled by the play of opposites (dvandva) in Nature, such as heat and cold, pleasure and pain, or praise and censure. 5. Mental collectedness (samādhāna), or concentration, the discipline of single-mindedness in all situations but specifically during periods of formal education. 6. Faith (shraddhā), a deeply inspired, heartfelt acceptance of the sacred and transcendental Reality. Faith, which is fundamental to all forms of spirituality, must not be confused with mere belief, which operates only on the level of the mind. In some works a threefold path is expounded: Listening (shravana), or reception of the sacred teachings Considering (manana) the import of the teachings Contemplation (nididhyāsana) of the truth, which is the Self (ātman) Step by step, the practitioner peels away all the veils concealing the ultimate Truth, which is the singular Spirit. This realization brings peace, bliss, and inner freedom.

There are hence more or less productive, more or less imaginatively inspired, ways to idealize. An idealizing elaboration of qualities that the other to some degree possesses—and enjoys possessing—is less damaging than worshipping (and insisting on) qualities that do not in any way correspond to how the other views itself. And even with idealizations that reflect the other’s self-image, it is vital to allow ample room for disappointment. An expectation of consistency—an expectation that the other will always meet our ideal—is disastrous in robbing the other of the capacity to be less than perfect. It is, in other words, important to recognize the transient nature of all idealizations. Even though the other’s adored features may not be wholly illusory—even though they may connect to something deeply meaningful in the other’s being—the expectation that they are entirely dependable inevitably is. In the same way that we need to be able to tolerate multiple and conflicting readings of ourselves, we need to come to terms with the manifold and ever-evolving realities of the other. The worst we can do is to fix the other into a static ideal, or to measure it against an inflexible external standard. As Stephen Mitchell explains, whether fantasies “are enriching or depleting depends on the way they are positioned in relation to actuality. Do they encourage an episodic selectivity and elaboration of the beauty of the partner? Or do they foster the illusion that there are other potential partners in the world who are only beautiful and never disappointing?

Phillips posits that what makes us suffer—what makes us bad and bitter losers, as it were—is precisely the fact that we expect permanence out of things that are by their very nature transient. “It is as though,” he asserts, “we have added to the ordinary suffering of biological life the extraordinary suffering of our immortal longings, of our will to permanence. As though our equating of value with duration over time—good relationships, like great art, are the ones that last: truths are eternal essences amid the ruinous wastes of time, and so on—straightforwardly turns a blind eye to all the evidence.

As the product of this curious alignment between machine and mind, the photograph is capable of manifesting the transient and the provisional - and thus of becoming a singularly moving work of art.

the reason for the feeling that time passes much more quickly than it used to. Due to the temporal dispersal, no experience of duration is possible. Nothing comports time.1 Life is no longer embedded in any ordering structures or coordinates that would found duration. Even things with which we identify are fleeting and ephemeral. Thus, we become radically transient ourselves. The atomization of life goes hand in hand with an atomization of identity. All we have is our self, our little ego. We are subject to a radical loss of space and time, even of world, of being-with. Poverty of world is a phenomenon of dyschronicity. It reduces the human being to a tiny body that is kept healthy at all costs. Otherwise, what would we have? The health of one’s fragile body is a substitute for world and God. Nothing outlasts death. Thus, dying is particularly difficult today. And we age, without becoming old.

The republican principle demands that the deliberate sense of the community should govern the conduct of those to whom they intrust the management of their affairs; but it does not require an unqualified complaisance to every sudden breeze of passion, or to every transient impulse which the people may receive from the arts of men, who flatter their prejudices to betray their interests.

His style was the exact opposite of his technical work; his line was loose, economical, free. And he wanted to capture what he couldn't keep, the fleeting, the transient.

I have seen, there, In the moonlit space of self, where the ego glides, Its silvery essence, a mirror upon life’s tides. Shaped by the ebb and flow of journey’s dance, Reflecting beliefs, in life’s intricate, ever-changing stance. This luminary, a learned guide in identity’s play, Casts shadows, illusions in its luminous display. A sculptor, artful, in societal norms it trusts, Chiseling character with life’s whims and cultural dust. The ego, in its carnival, spins tales so keen, Crafting who we ought to be in expectations unseen. In costumes of roles and societal dreams it dresses, Creating our outward selves in myriad, intricate presses. In stark contrast, behold the inner sun, our essence so bright, A steadfast flame, in the core of our being, burning with pure light. Unfiltered, unwavering, unlike the moon’s fickle gleam, A constant force, our authentic self, a deep, untouched stream. This essence, our unchanging truth, in the heart it resides, A whisper of eternity, beyond masks, where true self abides. Beyond roles, beyond transient ego’s elaborate dance, Lies this truth, unswayed by the external world’s fleeting glance. In the quest for self, twixt these luminaries, discernment is key, Traversing the self’s tangle, understanding what must be. Though ego’s voice echoes loud, in desires and fears it plays, It’s the essence’s silent light that guides through life’s stormy bays. Through recognition, understanding, transformation’s alchemy begins, Turning life unexamined into enlightened existence’s wins. A celestial voyage, within us, between sun and moon’s embrace, Ego teaches, grows us, in our worldly place. The essence, radiant and wise, to eternity connects, Offering authenticity, a path that perfects. Yin and yang, in our existence, they intertwine, In their dance, our soul’s rhythm, in harmony, divine. In moon’s reflection and sun’s light, a balance we find, Understanding their interplay, the rhythm of humankind.