M is for Madness (The A to Z guide to creative genius).

M is for Madness.

They say that there’s a fine line between genius and madness. They also say that with the moniker of being an artist, comes the added assumption that there will most likely be a little fuzz of craziness around the edges. They also say (Jeez they sure do say an awful lot!!!), that out of all the zodiac signs, the highest percentage of both creative geniuses as well as folk in asylums, are Aquarians! Ermmm…..!!

Mental health.

This is no laughing matter.

I don’t know whether being born with certain inclinations, sensibilities, and tendencies towards sensitivity and observing the world through a different language, gives creative folk an edge. Yes, certainly this heightened sense of seeing and feeling creates a response in artists that can be transformed into great works of beauty and humanity. Artists (and I include all of the arts in this word), are hardwired from birth it seems, to make meaning from the matter of life. And this indeed can become not just a matter of life, but a matter of life or death.

The arts are healing. Full stop. And you don’t have to be an artist to be affected by this. We all have had experiences I’m sure that have created fundamental shifts in our thinking and emotional bodies whilst being engaged with the arts: a piece of music; a poem; a dance piece; a painting. There is a sacredness to art that may be part of the urgency to create, consciously or otherwise, something holy, godly, spirit kissed, and ultimately beyond the human experience.

I think about two painters that I admire who have presented their art (willingly or posthumously) in support of this notion. The first is Alex Garland, painter of the cosmic energies of man and woman and life and love, who created a chapel of his art. The second is Mark Rothko, and if you have ever had the great fortune to be in the presence of his huge coloured canvases, then you will know the transcendental power of what he created. In fact he openly admitted that he was trying to paint his experience of God, and felt that he could never quite get it, though he was oh so, achingly, breathtakingly, close. You can feel that sacredness when you sit with his paintings. Unfortunately Rothko felt that he just could not attain what he was aiming for, and madness, and his demons sadly got the better of him.

Is there a link between godliness and madness?