Learning to unlearn

How we learn, is almost always antithetical. For something new, something known or familiar must first be dismantled or displaced. We make space, sometimes by unlearning or other times by completely undoing. And then on vulnerable sand, still glistening with memories of the last wave, we pick up a stick and start etching. 

In art what is sometimes called a 'negative space' is as resplendent with truth in life outside of a canvas. As important as the subject itself is the space around it, for it lends not only definition but also a certain balance for our senses to comprehend the subject in its entirety, inclusive of its periphery, spaces, boundaries or the lack of all of these. Like art, there are a million ways to know someone. Stand far enough and you can see the spectacular specks of color in a hurry to get somewhere. A little closer and you see the orchestrated smudges, making art a little more real. Close enough and you can almost hear the artist sighing with his last satisfied stroke. This is how we learn about each other. Like art, the spaces within and outside of each of us tell us stories endless nights couldn't, even if they tried. 

A painters dilemma is never the 'what', it is mostly the 'how'. How do I show you in colors what I cant possibly articulate in words? How do I use arbitrary strokes of a paintbrush, arranged in a mess so beautiful that you will understand what I'm feeling? Maybe I could start with an outline of it all, fill up the spaces as i go along and hope you see what I intended you to. Or maybe I could have no boundaries or outlines and see where my imagination takes me. The end result, an optimistic replica of the original angst. Either way, one must start somewhere. 

To want to know another human being is a lesson in many things but most of all, it is a lesson in patience. Imagine a forgetful, flimsy painter, enchanted with ideas of 'how' he will manifest the macrocosm of his emotions onto an 18 x 24 canvas. You can watch in rapt attention, take notes, walk away and then closer again but every time you move, you see something you hadn't seen before - a deeper hue, a concealed smudge, an abstraction so profound you wonder how you hadn't noticed it all along. But you wait, patiently. You forgive the forgetful genius for you both know why you are there. Its because you want to, not because you have to. And that makes all the difference. 

For the first few days, you absorb the enormity of the experience itself. You are humbled to be on the inside, to be given the chance to observe and learn. Every gesture is new and every move grand. There are days when you will attribute more meaning than was artistically intended. Be kind to yourself for it is your childlike eagerness leading you slightly astray. Let your desire for depth not scare anyone, least of all yourself. Ask questions, stay curious. At times, be solemnly silent. Remember, there was no artist who disliked an ardent observer. 

Moved & anxious by the mere idea of everything you've learnt so far, you will replay the images in your head, rewind every move and promise yourself you will remember every etch. The sound of the chisel and the smell of clay envelopes your pillow as sleep evades. 

There will be days when you feel you can almost predict each other. When you do, remember that coincidence precedes camaraderie. As you walk around each other, remember you are looking at a work of art, as much work in progress as you are. Sunlight will change how you see each other sometimes. Some nights you will be frayed but willing and will is everything. Enjoy silences when they come unannounced. There is comfort in knowing there is a masterpiece in the next room. 

There are a million ways to know someone. Sometimes we must observe their 'negative space' to look for what they do not say or do, do not try or do not want. What we don't do, defines us as much as what we do. For in making a choice, we forsake the alternative knowingly. Every one is telling you about themselves all the time; learn to listen to their silences. You may learn by what they tell you but you will learn more by what they let you see about themselves. Be an intent and ardent spectator and you will slowly understand their subtleties. Soon you will know not to interrupt their languid thoughts post a meal as surely as they will know that you need a walk in the park when your mind is overwhelmed. 

There will be days when the colors will conflict and forms will fade. When your predictions don't pander to the whims of the artist in the room and you will walk further and closer and back again to comprehend how the landscape could have changed overnight. Let not your insides churn with uncertainty, for shadows are caused by light, not darkness. We remain who we are to each other and even the ocean sways to the rhythm of the moon. When, not if, this happens, remember the story of patience and the prize. Walk closer and use your hands because sometimes another human being can only be understood like braille - with gentle hands and a willing heart.