My first visit to a visual arts gallery came at the not so tender age of 23. I felt overpowered by the contrast and vastness. It was one of those moments when you want to close your eyes, breathe high and capture the scent around you. No longer did it remain a mere business plan for me. This was my first brush with delight.
I make a mention of this, not to shower you with personal annecdotes, but to point out the inflexion points, which even the most materialistic and narrow minded beings go through, before they acknowledge the positive energy of aesthetics. But here ends the honeymoon. Why does it have to? Why doesnt beauty prevail? The search for answers will be a cold blooded affair.
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