What language do you speak? Tell me. I want to know.
For the longest time when trying to help people have empathy in life, my token phrase used to be that there is a whole language to stamp collecting. It is quite a specific, yet grounding reference to the notion that you may not in fact know how to understand what others are saying. It doesn’t mean you can’t talk to someone who is fluent in stamp lingo, but things sure do make a whole lot more sense if you know the verbiage. I was just watching a show where a main character was running down the list of horse terminology. If you didn’t know better, you would think horses liked chestnuts rather than automatically knowing it is a name for an actual body part.
I am unable to explain myself, but I speak RobRoy’s art. I am not fluent in it yet, but when it is present in my line of sight, time stops but my mind does not. The world around me ceases to affect my consciousness while his art and I strike up a multi faceted dialogue. The lines, the shapes, the color, the movements. Flow and form make easy the task of asserting decisions based on assumptions. It's some strange form of osmosis, his work dissipating through my eyes to my brain and it all makes sense. I see it clearly, the piece, and I just know, that what I think is true and I speak this language he draws with his fingers.
How do you go on about normal life when you can speak the fabric of quantum physics? It is not without humility that I live with this open window to the world of his work. It is but precious to me, and up for discussion should any be inclined to chat.
I see life represented in his shapes. Purpose in his lines. Structure depicting cracked, contorted, reversed mirror images of anatomy. I see symbolism in the color. All equating to what is only describable, as true art. That holds you in a pause, stimulating thoughts and quandaries, and intentionally leaves you wanting more.
It is a language I inherently knew I knew, before I ever uttered a word of admiration, sparking a deep friendship I am honored exists, in a space I can speak freely on a world he has created all his own.