Love's grip can drive one to the brink, as evidenced by Idris kazmi's life being upended by a single encounter with a mysterious girl. The aftermath of meeting her once catalyzed his unraveling. Her haunting beauty consumed his every waking thought...
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In the stillness of the night, as the world slumbers and dreams took flight on whimsical wings. Heyam Khalil was standing in front of the tall glass window. Her gaze fixed upon the moon, ocean eyes reflecting moon-glade, Her artistic fingers clung tightly to the wooden seams, grounding herself amidst the swirling thoughts that threatened to consume her. Heyam had always found moon fascinating because to her, Human life mirrored the shifting phases of the moon itself. Like the lunar cycle, it ebbed and flowed between moments of luminescent color and seemingly impenetrable darkness. She had understood early on in her budding years that just as the moon waned and waxed, humans too experienced the emptiness of solitude before finding solace and wholeness once more, she was yet to find it. But for now, In the embrace of loneliness each night, the moon became Heyam's true friend whose gentle light always offered a sense of warmth and comfort to her restless mind, a poignant clarity amidst the chaos of existence.
As the night pressed on, Heyam released a cold weary sigh. She ran her fingers through the cascade of amber-brown curls that framed her heart-shaped face, deftly twisting the strands into a bun. A few rebellious ringlets caressed her cheeks as she closed the sliding door of the window, shutting out the chill night air. Making her way towards the bed which was adorned with soft beige sheets. Heyam's room exuded a sense of warmth and coziness with the soft color palette and minimalist white furniture. She had also created a reading nook nestled in the corner, completed with a plush brown bean bag where she often lost herself in the world of pages. In another corner stood a large canvas, surrounded by neatly arranged art supplies on two small wooden stools. While sitting on the bed, Heyam reached for her sketchbook, the page she was working on was filled with intricate drawings of hands, it was a reference for her latest sculpture project. As she delved into her art, she remembered that the new episode of "The Artisan's Angle" was supposed to drop tonight. It was her favorite podcast hosted by David Carson. The podcast always featured the rising stars of the art world, engaging in thought-provoking conversations that ignited Heyam's own creative spark. With a sense of excitement, she switched on her laptop and tuned in to the latest episode.
"Hello, everyone. Good evening to all the art enthusiasts tuning in from around the globe. I'm your host, David Carson, and welcome back to another episode of The Artisan's Angle. Tonight, we are graced with the presence of a truly exceptional guest, a name that resonates throughout the world of modern art – Idris Kazmi." The cheerful timbre of David Carson's voice reverberated through Heyam's room, drawing her attention to the screen with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. It wasn't the guest she had anticipated, and her oceanic eyes narrowed in contemplation.
"Idris Kazmi, You are truly an epitome of influence and success in the art world. It is a genuine honor to engage in a conversation with you this fine evening. You are hard to get a hold of Idris; our production team has been eager to have you grace our show for quite some time," David chuckled, the camera shifting to reveal the guest seated before him. Idris Kazmi sat straight, clad in a crisp white shirt that he had casually rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his muscular tanned forearms. His countenance exuded an air of aristocracy, with a chiseled jawline, plump lips, and dark, empty eyes that seemed to pierce through the screen. His skin was a rich shade of olive. Yet, what truly captured the essence of his appearance was a raised white scar marring his left eyebrow, adding a touch of mystery to his otherwise handsome features.
"The pleasure is entirely mine, David. I am well aware of your reputation within the art community, and it is an honor to be a part of this conversation," Idris Kazmi's voice resonated with a rich, gourmand cadence, causing Heyam's heart to quicken its pace. However, beneath the allure of his voice, an unsettling feeling stirred within her that she struggled to decipher.
Heyam's focus returned to her sketching, her fingers gripping the pencil with purpose as she meticulously drew each stroke of the hand she was sketching. However, her gaze kept drifting back to Idris Kazmi's hands displayed on the screen before her, mesmerized by their sculptural beauty. The network of veins that traced along his large hands beckoned her artistic sensibilities.
"Let's start tonight's discussion, the topic of this podcast is 'Separating Art from the Artist'. It's a matter that delves into the subjectivity and objectivity of the art. Idris, where do you stand on this issue? Do you advocate for the separation of art from the artist, or do you believe they are intertwined?" David posed the question, his gaze fixed expectantly on Idris Kazmi, awaiting his perspective. Idris Kazmi cleared his throat and scratched the scar on his eyebrow, a subtle gesture that drew Heyam's attention further into the unfolding conversation. The topic intrigued her, stirring thoughts that had not previously crossed her mind. Eager to hear Idris Kazmi's viewpoint, Heyam leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued by the discourse before her.
"Personally, I think that the evaluation of art should be approached with objectivity. The value of an art piece lies in its ability to evoke emotions within the viewer, irrespective of the personal attributes or actions of the artist. By separating art from the artist, we can truly appreciate the art for its essence, unfettered by biases or preconceptions we may hold towards the artist," Idris Kazmi articulated his perspective with a smooth eloquence that left Heyam impressed by his intellectual abilities.
"Let's consider Pablo Picasso as a prime example. Despite his troubling history of mistreating his muses, Picasso's art remains one of the most influential in the art world of the 20th century. He played a role in co-inventing various art styles that continue to inspire artists till this day" Idris Kazmi remarked, his words weaving a thought-provoking narrative that held Heyam captive, Her sketch was long forgotten, her gaze fixed on the laptop screen.
"Indeed, that's a compelling point, Idris. Can you provide us with another example?" David inquired, jotting down in the notebook before him.
"Sure but I would like to emphasize that certain artists inevitably infuse their own fractured mind into their art, making it challenging to separate the art from the artist. For instance, consider Andres Serrano and his controversial artwork 'Piss Christ,' it was a photograph depicting a crucifix submerged in the artist's own urine, as you may know" Idris Kazmi added with a casual shrug of his shoulders, his words carrying a weight of significance.
"Absolutely, Idris. The display of 'Piss Christ' in a museum in 1989 sparked widespread outrage. Andres even received death threats from the Christian community" David concurred, acknowledging that artworks entwined with controversy often provoked the public.
