The other day out of a pure expression of joy I said something. I said a single sentence with three separate languages in it. Almost immediately a brush of significance rushed past me. It took a bit for it all to unfold but I came to understand it.
Perhaps because I am only fluent in English I take for granted that fact that all these varying languages of the world are one of the most beautiful human expressions of meaning. The fact that an object or feeling of any kind has thousands of names is overwhelmingly spectacular. In this I do not just see the differing perspectives of countless cultures but I see the never ending complexity of beauty in this world that we try our best to describe and understand. Our ability to have long ago extrapolated meaning from so many things and came to a common understanding and an agreed way of speaking for those meanings is beyond full comprehension for one living mind.
It seems to me that anything humanity creates, even if it’s ugly or terrible, is a work of art. Architecture, mathematics, literature, music, language, war, peace, love, hate, morality, and religion are all humanities works of art created out of the desperation of being confined to existence in a world where we are doomed to eventually die.