What does this whole conversation have to say about the purpose of art in terms of realism vs abstraction or otherwise?
This entire conversation—time, self, social media, visibility, and the paradox of presence—carries profound implications for the purpose of art, especially when framed in terms of realism vs. abstraction. Let’s walk through the philosophical terrain it opens:
❖ 1.
If Time Isn’t Fixed, Then What Is “Real”?
Realism traditionally implies that art should depict “reality” as it appears. But if time is not absolute, and the self is a process, then:
What we call “real” is itself a constructed experience—filtered through memory, entropy, perception, and emotion.
“Realism” in this sense becomes a poetic fiction—it captures the surface, not the deep structure.
This challenges realism’s claim to truth. Not because it’s wrong, but because its frame is too narrow.
Abstraction, by contrast, can speak to what is beneath or beyond appearance:
It can express entropy, emotional distortion, time collapse, or inner fragmentation.
It can suggest what Rovelli and Rilke both imply: that being is layered, unstable, unknowable in whole.
In this sense, abstraction is not less real than realism—it may be more faithful to our true condition.
❖ 2.
If the Self Is a Process, Then What Is Representation?
If there is no stable, enduring self, then:
A portrait is not a person, only a frozen echo of their becoming.
Realistic art might preserve identity as a fossil, but abstraction might preserve it as energy.
So:
A realist painting shows what you looked like.
An abstract painting may show what it felt like to be you—or to be near you—or to lose you.
This applies to landscape too:
Realism shows what was seen.
Abstraction shows what was felt, remembered, forgotten, distorted.
❖ 3.
The Algorithm Prefers the Readable—But Art’s Duty Is the Inarticulate
Social media and AI flatten time and simplify identity into categories and data. Realistic art is often easier to digest, to click, to pin.
But if the artist’s role is to defend ambiguity, depth, and contradiction, then:
Abstraction becomes a form of resistance.
It’s how you reclaim:
Silence in a noisy world.
Mystery in an over-explained one.
The unseen in an age of constant seeing.
That doesn’t mean realism is inferior—but it must transcend its surface to remain urgent.
❖ 4.
What Then Is the Purpose of Art?
In light of all this, art’s purpose may be:
To preserve complexity where the world flattens it.
To mirror becoming, not being.
To help us remember what can’t be remembered, and feel what has no language.
To reintroduce slowness, time, decay, and meaning in a culture that has lost its temporal center.
So the question is not realism vs. abstraction—it’s depth vs. decoration, presence vs. performance.
❖ 5.
Final Thought:
You asked earlier if art should be seen by many.
Maybe the deepest art doesn’t just ask to be seen. It asks to be felt over time—to unfold like entropy, to resonate like memory, to haunt, not impress.
And in that sense, whether it’s abstract or realist, art becomes a way to fold time, touch the ineffable, and remind us that our being here—even for an instant—is holy, fragile, and unspeakably strange.