Artists and philosophers abhor that which they merely see, or merely hear, or merely feel. In abject denial of things as they seem to be, the artist and the philosopher both strive to re-interpret, to repaint, to redefine reality in their eternal quest to re-create if you will.
While the artist takes recourse in imagination, the philosopher rides on her intellect. Intellect and imagination – there is no intellect without imagination and no imagination without intellect. The artist and the philosopher are one and the same.
Neither accepts without re-interpretation, why stare at a beautiful sunset, when you can paint it, why just live when you can ponder on the why nots. Why walk when you can dance? Why talk when you can sing.
To recreate the sunset as a splash of dots, maybe purples and magentas instead of reds and yellows, vibrant mashups instead of the serene, to paint as it moves the core, not as it hits the retina, to speak not a sentence but to sing with highs and lows, to walk not with your legs but track a trajectory with your body… now all that is art.
To break sacred old norms, to question beliefs, scientific or religious, to explore, to reinvent, to rethink life as it affects the conscious thought, not as it hits the senses but as it hits the soul, now that is philosophy.