In Ancient drama, the characters wore masks on stage to reveal suppressed emotions. The Tragedians were so beautifully perceptive to the burden of passion that exists in the mind and souls of all mortals. That urge to release a piece of ourselves into the world is the birth of Art. A longing to materialize those phantoms we call passion, connecting the chaotic immediacy of self to an eternal order. Subconsciously, we yearn for art. 

The potential for infinite connection lies deep within our minds and souls. The more we listen, the more these universal forces reveal themselves. In order to lessen the impact, sublime as it may be, our existence must be connected– metaphysically, through art—to express the nature of Nature, the universal substance beneath all finite materialized forms. Topped above this substance, or as some post-modern philosophers call it, ‘collective consciousness,’ is the desire to be understood individually. When the pursuit of truth spreads willingly upon the human psyche, form no longer plays a decisive role —substance, the desire for deeper understanding— takes its place, and the ego is temporarily suspended. One no longer has concern for the facade, at least for the moment, until the desire to be understood reawakens, manifesting itself through aesthetics in concrete form, and the process starts all over.