Art in Destruction.

Destruction isn’t always bad.  It’s usually what precedes or succeeds the word itself that gives it the negative connotation that it has.  Destruction, when alone, simply means the removal of something, but because the word has an intrinsic vigor to it, it creates a much more connotatively descriptive notion of that removal.

When we consider destruction in nature, we might think of something like a tornado.  It destroys homes, can take lives, and causes general panic across the nation.  However, the sheer amount of force and the majesty of the tornado is a force to be reckoned with.  Art is a way of expressing oneself, and in the case of the tornado, it does a fairly good job of it, embodying fury and wrath in a singularly awe-inducing event.  The velocity of the rotation and the wreckage left behind are, in a way, a kind of physical catharsis for all the pent up destruction.

Emotionally, destruction is an art as well.  There is a kind of destruction that is necessary in creating boundaries, but there is an art to it.  It’s not fair to either person to have to endure the pain of a blunt, straightforward rejection, but there is a weaving and many nuances that can help the destruction of any false hope seem less intense.  Knowing when to say certain things and when to make boundaries clear is the pinnacle of excellence in emotional destruction.

All told, destruction is definitely an art. I’m far too tired to put properly into words what I feel about it, but I shall end with this: when discussing destruction, some are artists; others are sculptors.

 

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