Artistry

I've never considered myself an artist, at least the visual kind, but I used to love trying. Even as I ridiculed, but was secretly proud of, my own efforts in mid-school art class, I enjoyed the experience and the outrageous, generally non-art-related tall tales of the teacher, who was one of my favorites as much because he encouraged my artistic pursuits as on account of those stories. I still try a painting or some such every once in a while, and I can do a solid perspective drawing (solely on account of the aforementioned class), but for the most part I'm lucky to make stick figures do my bidding. Peonic pretzel sticks.

Those who hold the rights are in the process of releasing the complete collection of Charles Schulz's Peanuts comic strip. It's an epic work-in-progress, and necessarily so, because near fifty years of work encapsulating nearly eighteen thousand strips does not get wrapped up into a tiny package, and consequently the collection is being released in something like twenty-four volumes, at a rate of two a year(!). They're really nice books, featuring fantastic cover art and lots of introductions and interviews by and with people who have been influenced by Schulz's work (these are not hard to find). Promoting this enterprise is not really the point of this posting, however.

The first volume has an extensive interview with the man himself, who says many memorable things, the most pertinent of which is that he was always surprised at how few people could draw well. What with my efforts lately to produce a comic, this got me thinking once again about talent, and its culmination in genius. That some things can be learned and some cannot is obvious enough, which obviousness does not in the slightest dull its capacity to infuriate. But even skills attainable through rote find their true expression in people who can intuit what others must memorize. What's the deal with this? Why do some leap the hurdles of calculus like an Olympic champion while others trip, repeatedly, over the concepts of algebra? Why are some scientifically-minded while others pursue linguistics in an altogether unholy manner? Arcane! And why, why oh why, can some people put pencil to paper and replicate the world as if the pencil were an illusion crafted for the rest of us because the sight of the direct transference from eye to paper that's actually going on would blow our minds? While I, mind you, see a picture in my mind, but in attempting to send it through my fingers experience the same frustration as when I try to play some real piano?

I believe there must be a biological explanation for talent and even for genius, just as there is for so much else that once seemed entirely rooted in the spiritual, metaphysical realm. One day the cause will be discovered, at which point it will be possible to endow people with whatever abilities they desire. Quite possibly. This is a topic science fiction has gotten plenty of mileage out of, and for good reason. It's one thing to chastise someone for wanting to circumvent a lot of hard work (download knowledge of Kung-Fu directly into my brain, thus mastering in two minutes what in reality takes many years? Yes, please.). It's another no longer to be limited by what capabilities one was born with, to be able to transcend what is often described as "Fate dealing a bad hand."

There's a downside, of course. There's always a downside. When everyone's capable of anything, no one's special anymore. That in itself would be just a 'moral' concern to be sneered at, perhaps with justice. But it's quite probable that such a development would elminate the possibility of genius. If everyone becomes an Einstein, that might not be a problem, but at the same time I wonder if it isn't necessary to allow for people who can think differently than everyone else, in order for evolutionary developments to happen.

Arguably for any further understanding of the world to be gained, there must be a brain that operates in a unique way and can see 'outside the box,' at least when connected to eyes. Perhaps it is one that makes use of previously-untapped paths or resources. If everything we are can be explained physically, then as science proceeds and we find those explanations, what happens? When we understand everything about ourselves and can control our capabilities, do we achieve complete understanding of everything? Or do we screw up, and lock ourselves into believing that we get it all, when in fact we have misinterpreted something, and because of our 'mastery' we've eliminated the possibility that someone will come along and correct our mistake? Rather scary, in an amateur-science kind of way.

How did I get onto this topic by wishing I could draw better? It is likely there will be a lower concentration of metaphysics in the next posting. But I promise nothing.