I imagine myself in a room where I see nothing but a single colour. There are no objects in the room which is lit completely evenly: the colour is without gradation or shadow of any kind. I hear no sound. I see no floor, walls, nor ceiling. At first I experience this in my mind's eye as an uncomfortable beauty, before growing increasingly unsettled. If you decide on the colour, do you become the artist?
This is my wish: this idea is not art. An Idea may conceive an artwork, but thinking does not make it so.
I ponder on the nature of emotional distress: sadness.
Sadness is associated with loss or absence of some kind: of my body, mind, or spirit; of someone or something that comforts me or gives me confidence and strength; of love.
Sadness is also a tool that helps me feel the world of another.
Sharing sadness is an expression of hope. Hope that another can be with, rather than apart.
Composition, movement, colour, form and sound can in part be revealed through mathematics.
One of art's essential characteristics is that it is an expression, a conscious and proclaimed utterance.
A work of art requires an audience, whereas mathematics (ideas about number, quantity, and space), does not.