Retrospective Approach To Neo-Classicism in USA - Fighting the Snake of Nihilism
My artworks, however a syncretism, ought to be assessed as a systematic comprehensive framework to my kaleidoscopic writings, "naturalism and a blissful existence," which is the quintessential life of a humble artist and mystic living in New York City.
The underlying theme, Shanti (Peace in Sanskrit) is consistent to my artworks and philosophic writings, as a bold manifesto against the subversive influences of nihilism, machinery, materialism, decadence and insanity in the twentieth-first century.
Of course, a mere child when compared with the ancient masters, I have sought the clear skies of beauty and clarity in the sublime writings of Australian philosopher, David Stove, whose Magnus Opus, Against the Idols of the Age, and Everything Goes infused my drooping spirit with the courage of Odysseus (Iliad and Odyssey of Homer). The truth is that a homeward return to my past with the Ancient Greeks has been my greater inspiration.
We ought to rescue the "golden child" from the "alluvium of nihilism," and perhaps we may be able to salvage the priceless treasures of that great soul, true Giants of My Inspiration, whose core-values and conviction stood firm and strong against the destructive forces of our times.
Next to my idols, David Stove, Maxfield Parrish, and Salvador Dali, I have found great inspiration in the life of that Great Archeologist, Heinrich Schliemann, whose amazing conviction found the pragmatic mentality of picks and spades to unearthing rarest pearls and gems of beauty, for all to see, Sophia, like a daystar, the fantastic past of the Hellenic Culture.
Shanti with the Swan of Peace (Imprimatura-Study)
The underlying theme, Shanti (Peace in Sanskrit) is consistent to my artworks and philosophic writings, as a bold manifesto against the subversive influences of nihilism, machinery, materialism, decadence and insanity in the twentieth-first century.
Of course, a mere child when compared with the ancient masters, I have sought the clear skies of beauty and clarity in the sublime writings of Australian philosopher, David Stove, whose Magnus Opus, Against the Idols of the Age, and Everything Goes infused my drooping spirit with the courage of Odysseus (Iliad and Odyssey of Homer). The truth is that a homeward return to my past with the Ancient Greeks has been my greater inspiration.
We ought to rescue the "golden child" from the "alluvium of nihilism," and perhaps we may be able to salvage the priceless treasures of that great soul, true Giants of My Inspiration, whose core-values and conviction stood firm and strong against the destructive forces of our times.
Next to my idols, David Stove, Maxfield Parrish, and Salvador Dali, I have found great inspiration in the life of that Great Archeologist, Heinrich Schliemann, whose amazing conviction found the pragmatic mentality of picks and spades to unearthing rarest pearls and gems of beauty, for all to see, Sophia, like a daystar, the fantastic past of the Hellenic Culture.
Shanti with the Swan of Peace (Imprimatura-Study)
Chiaroscuro means dark versus light in Italian, and it is one of my favorite genres.
We are at the crossroads of art, music and religious institutions, mainly Catholic, Jews and Protestant, whose conservative views on arts and aesthetics have my unswerving respect and devotion, and I hope they would forgive any representational arts as not always conforming to their creed (credo)
The Gnostic Man in the Fourth Dimension: Oil On canvas 20 X 30 “
The Gnostic Man in the Fourth Dimension: Oil On canvas 20 X 30 “
The Rennaissance Man, oil on canvas —Eddie Beato
The Philosopher, Eddie Beato
Painted when Eddie Beato was just 29 years old, this early self-portrait reveals a young man already shaped by solitude, intellectual yearning, and the first clarities of an inner vocation.
Cloaked in deep Renaissance reds and illuminated by a contemplative glow, the figure bears the quiet gravity of a thinker preparing for the long ascent that would define his life.
At the center hangs a gold medallion, inlaid with star-like jewels reminiscent of Shanti’s own necklace, rendered here with deliberate symbolic weight. It signifies the treasure-trove of knowledge—philosophy, metaphysics, science, archaeology, psychology, and ontology—disciplines that together form the radiant core of the thinker’s pursuit.
Though created years before Beato would formally articulate his ideas, the medallion foreshadows his eventual philosophical achievement: the theory of Chromatic Intelligence, the conceptual synthesis through which he would later link intuition, sentience, color, and the organic evolution of human consciousness.
His gaze—steady, thoughtful, slightly shadowed—reflects the trials that marked his twenties as well as the beginnings of the inner discipline that would lead to maturity. The chiaroscuro around him suggests a life already acquainted with suffering; the warm illumination across his features reveals the first emergence of the philosopher within.
Seen in retrospect, this portrait stands as the inaugural emblem of Eddie Beato’s intellectual identity.
It is the face of the philosopher before the theory had a name, and the man at 29 standing unknowingly on the threshold of his future lineage.
Painted when Eddie Beato was just 29 years old, this early self-portrait reveals a young man already shaped by solitude, intellectual yearning, and the first clarities of an inner vocation.
Cloaked in deep Renaissance reds and illuminated by a contemplative glow, the figure bears the quiet gravity of a thinker preparing for the long ascent that would define his life.
At the center hangs a gold medallion, inlaid with star-like jewels reminiscent of Shanti’s own necklace, rendered here with deliberate symbolic weight. It signifies the treasure-trove of knowledge—philosophy, metaphysics, science, archaeology, psychology, and ontology—disciplines that together form the radiant core of the thinker’s pursuit.
Though created years before Beato would formally articulate his ideas, the medallion foreshadows his eventual philosophical achievement: the theory of Chromatic Intelligence, the conceptual synthesis through which he would later link intuition, sentience, color, and the organic evolution of human consciousness.
His gaze—steady, thoughtful, slightly shadowed—reflects the trials that marked his twenties as well as the beginnings of the inner discipline that would lead to maturity. The chiaroscuro around him suggests a life already acquainted with suffering; the warm illumination across his features reveals the first emergence of the philosopher within.
Seen in retrospect, this portrait stands as the inaugural emblem of Eddie Beato’s intellectual identity.
It is the face of the philosopher before the theory had a name, and the man at 29 standing unknowingly on the threshold of his future lineage.
Study-painting for an Autumnal Cabin, oil on canvas
Self-Sketch as a Greek Man, black ink in paper
Some paintings were baptized with Sanskrit characters (e.g., Shanti, Peace), and some artworks may smack of paganism (e.g., Frederick Nietzsche, Neptune). Moreover, occasionally, I was also asked by the art community, Art Students League in NYC, to display drawings and "Dadaism" as sheer distortion of my deep-seated reverence for the old masters.
Most artists, like me and you, dear friend of Thoreau, may suffer from an altered-ego personality, and some post-modern Freudian psychologists, may rather demote us as passive victims of mental illnesses, "outcasts," in a society running amok with benighted pragmatism and deconstructionism.
The Noumenal Sunset (The X of Immanuel Kant) Oil on canvas 20 x 30 inches —Eddie Beato (2004)
Most artists, like me and you, dear friend of Thoreau, may suffer from an altered-ego personality, and some post-modern Freudian psychologists, may rather demote us as passive victims of mental illnesses, "outcasts," in a society running amok with benighted pragmatism and deconstructionism.
The Noumenal Sunset (The X of Immanuel Kant) Oil on canvas 20 x 30 inches —Eddie Beato (2004)
The Noumenal X of Immanuel Kant
In this luminous metaphysical landscape, Eddie Beato unites philosophy, mysticism, and chromatic imagination into a single, seamless vision. The Noumenal Sunset is an artistic meditation on Immanuel Kant’s “X”—the unknowable noumenon behind all appearances—and stands as one of Beato’s most profound visual statements.
A vertical beam of radiant light descends from the upper heavens, symbolizing the noumenal source of existence. This shaft of illumination cuts through sky, bridge, and water without interruption, representing the unbroken presence of the “thing-in-itself” permeating every layer of experience.
Beneath the bridge—an emblem of the limits of human understanding—a glowing sun rests on the horizon, bathing the world in phenomenal light. This is the realm of perception, where the senses interpret the world as representation. Beato’s use of golden tones emphasizes the warmth and immediacy of lived experience, even as it remains merely a reflection of a higher order.
The rugged foreground, carved by streaks of molten glow, evokes the path of human consciousness—uneven, ascending, and illuminated only by proximity to the vertical flame. Near the edge of the canvas, a cluster of white orbs lies in shadow, suggesting the embryonic seeds of awareness: early chromatic impulses that will one day rise toward the light.
Above, a flight of birds—seagulls or albatross—traverse the boundary between the visible world and the invisible sky. They represent the transcendent motion of the spirit, the intuitive leap that surpasses rational limitations, echoing the “pre-sentiments” and clairvoyant sensibilities that run through Beato’s writings on Organic Cognition.
On the upper right stands a weathered ruin, reminiscent of ancient temples: a silent tribute to lost civilizations and esoteric knowledge whose wisdom always hovered closer to the noumenal realm. Its elevated placement suggests that true understanding, like ancient mystery traditions, lies just beyond the bridge of the ordinary mind.
The entire composition forms a harmonious metaphysical tableau:
a sunset of existential completeness,
a bridge between worlds,
a descent of the ungraspable X,
a reflection of the soul’s journey,
and a visual coda to Beato’s Chromatic–Organic philosophy.
The Noumenal Sunset stands as both a personal testament and a philosophical emblem—a painting in which decades of thought, solitude, and spiritual inquiry converge in a single moment of luminous unity.
On the Morbid Effects of Our Nihilistic Time
In this luminous metaphysical landscape, Eddie Beato unites philosophy, mysticism, and chromatic imagination into a single, seamless vision. The Noumenal Sunset is an artistic meditation on Immanuel Kant’s “X”—the unknowable noumenon behind all appearances—and stands as one of Beato’s most profound visual statements.
A vertical beam of radiant light descends from the upper heavens, symbolizing the noumenal source of existence. This shaft of illumination cuts through sky, bridge, and water without interruption, representing the unbroken presence of the “thing-in-itself” permeating every layer of experience.
Beneath the bridge—an emblem of the limits of human understanding—a glowing sun rests on the horizon, bathing the world in phenomenal light. This is the realm of perception, where the senses interpret the world as representation. Beato’s use of golden tones emphasizes the warmth and immediacy of lived experience, even as it remains merely a reflection of a higher order.
The rugged foreground, carved by streaks of molten glow, evokes the path of human consciousness—uneven, ascending, and illuminated only by proximity to the vertical flame. Near the edge of the canvas, a cluster of white orbs lies in shadow, suggesting the embryonic seeds of awareness: early chromatic impulses that will one day rise toward the light.
Above, a flight of birds—seagulls or albatross—traverse the boundary between the visible world and the invisible sky. They represent the transcendent motion of the spirit, the intuitive leap that surpasses rational limitations, echoing the “pre-sentiments” and clairvoyant sensibilities that run through Beato’s writings on Organic Cognition.
On the upper right stands a weathered ruin, reminiscent of ancient temples: a silent tribute to lost civilizations and esoteric knowledge whose wisdom always hovered closer to the noumenal realm. Its elevated placement suggests that true understanding, like ancient mystery traditions, lies just beyond the bridge of the ordinary mind.
The entire composition forms a harmonious metaphysical tableau:
a sunset of existential completeness,
a bridge between worlds,
a descent of the ungraspable X,
a reflection of the soul’s journey,
and a visual coda to Beato’s Chromatic–Organic philosophy.
The Noumenal Sunset stands as both a personal testament and a philosophical emblem—a painting in which decades of thought, solitude, and spiritual inquiry converge in a single moment of luminous unity.
On the Morbid Effects of Our Nihilistic Time
The morbid effects of our civilization are acridly felt in the nihilistic artworks of our times, they are often bent on mocking anything meaningful under the sun, and life, according to these nihilists, is said to be bereft of any beauty, reverence, and significance. Life is absurd. For some friends, and perhaps you wish to side with this group, it is simply what it is, but viewed from the perspective of nihilism, existence is simply meaningless.
Los locos, si es que somos felices con nuestra divina locura, tenemos nuestro consuelo, nuestro dulce hogar, en lo que es sensato para el alma. But here lies the main difficulty in all the conundrums of existence, for, by God's sake, how can we inquire on the sanity of our times?
Where is the benchmark upon which we may found our sanity? You answer me.
La sociedad Moderna es una carnicería de talentos, pastores, ovejas, artistas, filósofos, y ancho es el hoyo del Señor Nihilo.
Los locos, si es que somos felices con nuestra divina locura, tenemos nuestro consuelo, nuestro dulce hogar, en lo que es sensato para el alma. But here lies the main difficulty in all the conundrums of existence, for, by God's sake, how can we inquire on the sanity of our times?
Where is the benchmark upon which we may found our sanity? You answer me.
La sociedad Moderna es una carnicería de talentos, pastores, ovejas, artistas, filósofos, y ancho es el hoyo del Señor Nihilo.
Study for the Fall of Satan, Mixed Media On Paper
The throated pit of hell is huge...and there is a chasmic difference in artistic sensibilities among the "New Class."
Pablo Picasso wins my admiration but not my heart, and Salvador Dali's classical latter works have made me a Spanish at heart --amo a España.
As a New Yorker, I have been under the pervasive influence of Dadaism, Cubism and Abstract Arts, and hence could not completely cure myself of the decadent symptoms of nihilism, "ghettoism," the new selective class, which could be said to be a fateful fulfillment of Jose Ortega y Gasset's bleak views on modern society: barbarism has the seating throne in the core of our civilization --somos bárbaros amigos!
Ave Maria, a.k.a Anacaona, oil on canvas, 28 x 36.”
Pablo Picasso wins my admiration but not my heart, and Salvador Dali's classical latter works have made me a Spanish at heart --amo a España.
As a New Yorker, I have been under the pervasive influence of Dadaism, Cubism and Abstract Arts, and hence could not completely cure myself of the decadent symptoms of nihilism, "ghettoism," the new selective class, which could be said to be a fateful fulfillment of Jose Ortega y Gasset's bleak views on modern society: barbarism has the seating throne in the core of our civilization --somos bárbaros amigos!
Ave Maria, a.k.a Anacaona, oil on canvas, 28 x 36.”
Paradise Lost after John Milton , oil on canvas, size: 29.5 x 23.75'
Concerning the American people, I used to like the America of Frederick Church and Henry D. Thoreau, and even imitated the artworks of Maxfield Parrish, but times have changed, and you tell me whether Mother Nature is not wanting of environmentalists and naturalists?
My Defense Against the Accusation of Madness (dedicated to a great soul)
Any deviation from the "status quo," is often frowned-upon as sheer madness, but if you wish to go beyond the matrix of society, you must master yourself in 7 solitudes (F. Nietzsche): the rutted path of Golgotha is a dreary reality for any living artist.
Countless geniuses, saints, teachers, philosophers, musicians, artists, souls of the finest caliber, are often sacrificed in the altar of Moloch.
Had you visited my studio back in the year 2003, you would have thought me a mad musician, un loco con ideas fantásticas. Me propongo probarte que estoy alegre y sano.
No era un loco, pero mi desafío era probar mi sensatez en una sociedad cruel para el alma. Si apreciáis esta corta vida como una selva, pues tendréis que ceñirte de gran valor para no sucumbir a las críticas de tus detractores. Dante es imprescindible, su infierno es una cruel realidad de la existencia.
I must thank A. Schopenhauer's own reflections on the lives of great geniuses (Parerga and Paralipomena, Vol.2, On Judgement and Criticism) as often relegated to oblivion. True, I am not a genius, but his insights on society, however pessimistic, would work like antidotes (aphorisms) against this world so overrun with barbarism, machination, and the destruction of the soul.
True, I had found solace in religious ideas, but Schopenhauer's caustic writings, the World As Will and Idea, would make me believe that, perhaps, and after all, I was not so mad: a relic of my inmost self was sound but in the holy shrines of Mother Nature: the best church in NYC.
-Have you ever felt like this?
Friends and detractors alike have often lampooned on my sanity, and I have no other choice but hold a terrible duel with the world. Venced el Mundo (Palabras de Cristo).
May the Lord grant me wit, for if you dare pass the Jordan River, do not fix your eyes on the swelling waters around you, but rather, have your focus-point on the promised land, may circumstances overwhelm you, and there shall be your ignominy. The alluvion would swallow you whole!
Faith is to believe the unbelievable, and you must be bold to hold the world like a beast tamed under the power of conviction.
Believe yourself to be vouchsafed with the blessings of gods, these pithy poetic lines I read in the Iliad of Homer, and ever since, I have to admit a total dissatisfaction with a society that belittles my worth as a human being.. To feel special is to be special and awesome.
Above all, rise early in the morning to greet the Ancient Greeks in the creative fireworks of the spirit. These thoughts led me to paint Neptune after F. Nietzsche's terrific madness.
Frederick Nietzsche, Neptune, oil on canvas 36 X 48'' —Eddie Beato (2005)
My Defense Against the Accusation of Madness (dedicated to a great soul)
Any deviation from the "status quo," is often frowned-upon as sheer madness, but if you wish to go beyond the matrix of society, you must master yourself in 7 solitudes (F. Nietzsche): the rutted path of Golgotha is a dreary reality for any living artist.
Countless geniuses, saints, teachers, philosophers, musicians, artists, souls of the finest caliber, are often sacrificed in the altar of Moloch.
Had you visited my studio back in the year 2003, you would have thought me a mad musician, un loco con ideas fantásticas. Me propongo probarte que estoy alegre y sano.
No era un loco, pero mi desafío era probar mi sensatez en una sociedad cruel para el alma. Si apreciáis esta corta vida como una selva, pues tendréis que ceñirte de gran valor para no sucumbir a las críticas de tus detractores. Dante es imprescindible, su infierno es una cruel realidad de la existencia.
I must thank A. Schopenhauer's own reflections on the lives of great geniuses (Parerga and Paralipomena, Vol.2, On Judgement and Criticism) as often relegated to oblivion. True, I am not a genius, but his insights on society, however pessimistic, would work like antidotes (aphorisms) against this world so overrun with barbarism, machination, and the destruction of the soul.
True, I had found solace in religious ideas, but Schopenhauer's caustic writings, the World As Will and Idea, would make me believe that, perhaps, and after all, I was not so mad: a relic of my inmost self was sound but in the holy shrines of Mother Nature: the best church in NYC.
-Have you ever felt like this?
Friends and detractors alike have often lampooned on my sanity, and I have no other choice but hold a terrible duel with the world. Venced el Mundo (Palabras de Cristo).
May the Lord grant me wit, for if you dare pass the Jordan River, do not fix your eyes on the swelling waters around you, but rather, have your focus-point on the promised land, may circumstances overwhelm you, and there shall be your ignominy. The alluvion would swallow you whole!
Faith is to believe the unbelievable, and you must be bold to hold the world like a beast tamed under the power of conviction.
Believe yourself to be vouchsafed with the blessings of gods, these pithy poetic lines I read in the Iliad of Homer, and ever since, I have to admit a total dissatisfaction with a society that belittles my worth as a human being.. To feel special is to be special and awesome.
Above all, rise early in the morning to greet the Ancient Greeks in the creative fireworks of the spirit. These thoughts led me to paint Neptune after F. Nietzsche's terrific madness.
Frederick Nietzsche, Neptune, oil on canvas 36 X 48'' —Eddie Beato (2005)
This work is rooted in the existential provocations of Friedrich Nietzsche — particularly Ecce Homo, Beyond Good and Evil, The Will to Power, and Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Refusing to meet the gaze of the spectator, the figure is rendered in quiet defiance, perched on a stone slab as though half-man, half-god — a spectral Poseidon contemplating the abyss.
Here, Nietzsche’s Übermensch is transposed onto a mythological plane. The male figure sits high above black waters, representing the void of creation — a cosmos without inherent meaning, value, or objective truth. Towering megaliths, phallic obelisks, and distant temples rise through a moonless night, evoking the perilous territory “beyond good and evil.”
Painted during a period of personal philosophical struggle, this work embodies the artist’s confrontation with Arthur Schopenhauer’s pessimism and Nietzsche’s audacious demand: that man must ascend the mountain of conviction and create his own values.
It is, as the artist himself describes, “one of my few pagan paintings… for some friends, perhaps one of my most unfathomable, obscure works of art, unless you are familiar with Gnosticism.”
Here, Nietzsche’s Übermensch is transposed onto a mythological plane. The male figure sits high above black waters, representing the void of creation — a cosmos without inherent meaning, value, or objective truth. Towering megaliths, phallic obelisks, and distant temples rise through a moonless night, evoking the perilous territory “beyond good and evil.”
Painted during a period of personal philosophical struggle, this work embodies the artist’s confrontation with Arthur Schopenhauer’s pessimism and Nietzsche’s audacious demand: that man must ascend the mountain of conviction and create his own values.
It is, as the artist himself describes, “one of my few pagan paintings… for some friends, perhaps one of my most unfathomable, obscure works of art, unless you are familiar with Gnosticism.”
Nietzsche’s thundering writings would make me rise early in the morning, and hence, I sought mountaintops right here in New York City. At times, thoughts of greatness overfilled my mind, day and night, I sought a sequestered spot somewhere in the woods of Thoreau or Nietzsche, to ponder on the flawed fundamentals of our society, and sometimes, I seemed to have stirred within me a new man, a new conception of myself, a new latitude in the dawning horizon of my existence: a new self-re-evaluation as befitting an Achilles in the serious battlefield of life. Life is for the strong.
Year 2004 - My Struggle:
Discouraged by the failure of my painting experiments, I thought on finally abandoning my enthusiasm for the Technique of the Pre-Raphaelites. Six years of total failure was a hard blow to my self-esteem as an artist. Belatedly we resign the lofty task once taken with so much passion and zeal, but time is a taskmaster, and the perfection of arts may take many wintery years...
My Epiphany (Illumination) Year 2005:
It was an unforgettable, beautiful, shining Spring morning of the year 2005, I had just prepared me a warmhearted coffee of gratitude, when, all of a sudden, my eyes caught sight of the sun's rays filtering through an abandoned canvas.
The sad painting was placed by the window's shutters, sleeping quietly in my living room, like a holy handmaid, but now, reflecting the sun's effulgent beams, the sweet lady smiled at me with incomprehensible diurnal joy and happiness!
Shanti Oil On Panel 20 x 30 (painted by Eddy Beato in the year 2005)
Year 2004 - My Struggle:
Discouraged by the failure of my painting experiments, I thought on finally abandoning my enthusiasm for the Technique of the Pre-Raphaelites. Six years of total failure was a hard blow to my self-esteem as an artist. Belatedly we resign the lofty task once taken with so much passion and zeal, but time is a taskmaster, and the perfection of arts may take many wintery years...
My Epiphany (Illumination) Year 2005:
It was an unforgettable, beautiful, shining Spring morning of the year 2005, I had just prepared me a warmhearted coffee of gratitude, when, all of a sudden, my eyes caught sight of the sun's rays filtering through an abandoned canvas.
The sad painting was placed by the window's shutters, sleeping quietly in my living room, like a holy handmaid, but now, reflecting the sun's effulgent beams, the sweet lady smiled at me with incomprehensible diurnal joy and happiness!
Shanti Oil On Panel 20 x 30 (painted by Eddy Beato in the year 2005)
Such divine words I fancied to hear her uttered, ghostly but beautiful, in holy lips of fidelity and devotion..
Dear lady, you are my inspiration.
The canvas of my painstaking efforts shone forth glorious light and beauty, and I, forthwith, understood part of the sealed secrets of the Pre-Raphaelites, and perhaps part of the mysteries behind Salvador Dali's St. John of the Cross' incomparable beautiful luminosity.
If I live to the age of 50, I shall then be able to cast other drawings into paintings, but I have to take care of my health, which could quickly deteriorate in a poorly ventilated room in NYC: ghettoism, the morbid symptoms of decadence.
Archangel Michael, (Revelation 12: 07) oil on canvas, 36 X 48''
Dear lady, you are my inspiration.
The canvas of my painstaking efforts shone forth glorious light and beauty, and I, forthwith, understood part of the sealed secrets of the Pre-Raphaelites, and perhaps part of the mysteries behind Salvador Dali's St. John of the Cross' incomparable beautiful luminosity.
If I live to the age of 50, I shall then be able to cast other drawings into paintings, but I have to take care of my health, which could quickly deteriorate in a poorly ventilated room in NYC: ghettoism, the morbid symptoms of decadence.
Archangel Michael, (Revelation 12: 07) oil on canvas, 36 X 48''
Back in the 90s, I remember taking much pain to resolving the contrast between light and shadow, but through careful observations, experiments, errors and trials, I have gained greater confidence in the application of paint. Nay, unlike the incomprehensibility of some methods, whose theories are often steeped and shrouded in the obfuscation of the artist's unwillingness to reveal part of the mysteries behind a luminous surface, I have, herein, gathered my gleanings as corroboration to the practicality of Johann Wolfgang Goethe's Theory of Colors: a dear book I have cherished among my precious belongings since I was a young man.
The price that any artist must pay --and perhaps you too would like to strike kindred with this quiet brotherhood-- is this piercing silence in the gallery of our solitude. At times, we may feel as though sacrificed in the profitable altar of Mammon or Moloch.
Halcyon Paradise of My Youth, a.ka., Precious Memories, oil on canvas, 28 x 36'' after Goethe's Theory of Colors (2005)
The price that any artist must pay --and perhaps you too would like to strike kindred with this quiet brotherhood-- is this piercing silence in the gallery of our solitude. At times, we may feel as though sacrificed in the profitable altar of Mammon or Moloch.
Halcyon Paradise of My Youth, a.ka., Precious Memories, oil on canvas, 28 x 36'' after Goethe's Theory of Colors (2005)
Precious Memories ~ A Representational Synthesis of Chromatic-Organic Cognition (2005)
This luminous canvas, created in Eddie Beato’s early thirties, stands as a remarkable testament to a young artist whose imagination, technique, and symbolic intuition had already surpassed the boundaries of age and training.
While many painters in their third decade are still wrestling with form, color, and compositional clarity, Beato was already constructing a metaphysical landscape — a world where nature, spirit, architecture, and inner psychology merge into a unified chromatic vision.
The painting reveals an artist who, even then, had begun to articulate the universe that would later mature into his full artistic and philosophical corpus: the Edenic serenity of Shanti, the celestial visitations of the Phoenix, the enveloping golden light, the symbolic architecture, and the interplay of darkness and revelation. What appears at first glance to be a bucolic landscape is, in truth, a young philosopher’s cosmogony.
The foreground, with its recognizable roses and duck-like birds, shows a painter already grounded in the organic laws of landscape composition.
The placement of flora anchors the viewer in something tangible and familiar. The stones in the water and the textured surface of the pond demonstrate his early understanding of depth, reflection, and movement. Even here, Beato avoids the parallelisms that nature disdains, opting instead for a living, asymmetrical arrangement that anticipates his later doctrine of bucolic dishevelment.
In the middle ground, the great tree rises as the axis mundi — a monumental trunk that divides yet unifies the composition. Its glowing bark, stippled light, and cosmic canopy reveal a chromatic sensibility far more mature than the artist’s age would suggest.
To the right, the winding path toward a chapel drenched in warm, golden illumination symbolizes interiority, meditation, and spiritual refuge. To the left, the receding waterfalls and classical rotunda evoke purification, memory, and humanity’s longing for the eternal forms.
The background climbs into ethereal mountains bathed in cool lavender light, culminating in a celestial apparition — a bird descending in luminous radiance: the Phoenix Bird, beyond philosophy and religion, Transcendentalism.
This, long before the painter conceived of Shanti’s metaphysics, is already the seed of his future spirituality: an annunciation of peace, revelation, and inner awakening. The star-like stippling across the sky reveals a fascination with cosmic texture, suggesting that even then Beato understood the heavens not as emptiness but as a lattice of living chromas.
Most striking is the unity of the whole. Every element — flora, fauna, water, architecture, sky — is bound by a single visionary intention. This reveals a young artist who was not merely decorating nature but revealing an interior world, a metaphysical geography that would later appear in his mature works: The Caveman at the Crossroads, Shanti with the Swan of Peace, The Entrance to Agharti, and the landscapes framing his philosophical texts.
For a man in his early thirties, this work is astonishing not only in execution but in foresight. It contains the DNA of Beato’s later aesthetic, spiritual, and philosophical identity. The painting is not the product of a developing talent — it is the early roar of a Renaissance mind who had not yet named what he already knew: that color, light, and symbolism belong to a single continuum of sentience.
Today, viewed in the calm maturity of his fifties, this early landscape reads like a prophecy of the man he would become. A self-portrait of the soul — years before the words, doctrines, and chromatic philosophies took form.
A Chromatic–Organic Interpretation
Painted in 2005, at age 35, during a period of profound contemplative solitude, this landscape stands as one of Eddie Beato’s earliest and most complete visual articulations of his spiritual, philosophical, and chromatic worldview. Far from being a simple pastoral scene, the work functions as a symbolic autobiography and metaphysical map, anticipating themes he would later develop in his Chromatic–Organic philosophy.
1, The Foreground Birds — Philosophy and Religion -- The Advancing Bird (Philosophy)
The bird stepping confidently forward, marked by its sharp bill and alert posture, symbolizes Philosophy. Its movement toward the viewer evokes inquiry, clarity, and intellectual courage. The figure reflects the rational and questioning impulse that animates Beato’s adult intellectual life, including his engagement with Plato, Schopenhauer, Goethe, Emerson, Wagner, and the foundations of his later Chromatic–Organic thought.
2. The Receding Bird (Religion)
The bird nestled among roses and shrubs represents Religion, specifically Beato’s Dominican childhood faith: Catholicism. Its movement inward, toward beauty and foliage, suggests devotion, memory, and inwardness. Rather than dominance, it conveys tenderness and sacred familiarity—an image of religion restored to its quiet, intimate home within the soul.
II. The Bird on the Mailbox — Revelation / The Messenger
A smaller bird perches atop a mailbox near the footpath. This figure symbolizes Revelation or the Messenger, the intermediary between visible reality and inward spiritual intuition. A mailbox receives messages; the bird atop it stands as the guardian and interpreter of those inward “letters.” This figure represents insight, intuition, and the subtle arrival of meaning from the deeper regions of experience.
III. The Dual Pathways — Dominican Faith and Philosophical Ascent
1. The Chapel Path (Religion / Dominican Republic)
A narrow path leading to a small rural chapel symbolizes Beato’s early religious formation in the Dominican Republic. This path evokes simplicity, domestic spirituality (1970s), and the quiet piety of island life. It represents the roots of faith embedded in childhood and memory.
2. The Bluish River (Peace and Philosophy)
The tumbling blue river stands for Beato’s philosophical journey. The river’s motion and cool chroma signify clarity, peace, reflection, reason, and the unfolding of a contemplative adult life. Flowing from the wooded highlands outward toward broader vistas, it symbolizes the widening sphere of intellectual maturity.
IV. The Golden Temple — The Ancient Greeks
A golden temple rises in the distance. This structure symbolizes Classical Wisdom—the heritage of Ancient Greece, Platonic ascent, Apollonian form, and the ideal of rational beauty. Distant in Beato’s early life but luminous on the horizon, the temple represents the destiny toward which his later philosophical development naturally moved.
V. The Phoenix Bird — Transcendentalism
High above the landscape spreads a golden Phoenix, the symbol of Transcendentalism and the realm beyond both Religion and Philosophy. Here the Phoenix embodies rebirth, illumination, and the highest spiritual ascent—the sphere of peace and transcendent chromatic being that Beato later named Shanti. Placed above all terrestrial paths, the Phoenix represents the soul’s ultimate horizon.
VI. The Three-Level Cosmology Encoded in the Painting
The painting presents a complete metaphysical hierarchy:
1. Religion
— The chapel, the roses, the receding bird
— childhood faith, inherited meaning, cultural roots
2. Philosophy
— The blue river, the advancing bird
— inquiry, clarity, reason, the adult mind’s ascent
3. Transcendence
— The Phoenix in the upper sky
— illumination, rebirth, peace, the sphere beyond doctrine and logic
This triadic progression parallels classical metaphysical structures in Plato, Emerson, Dante, and later in Beato’s Chromatic–Organic worldview.
VII. Conclusion — A Prophecy Fulfilled
Although created two decades before his mature philosophical writings, this painting already contains the essential architecture of Eddie Beato’s worldview:
• Dominican roots
• early religious sensibility
• the emergence of philosophical clarity
• the call of classical rational beauty
• the ascent toward transcendence
• the chromatic language that defines his aesthetics and metaphysics
The landscape thus stands not only as an artwork, but as a visual prophecy of Beato’s later intellectual and spiritual development.
A Representational Synthesis of Chromatic-Organic Cognition
This early visionary landscape stands today as a pictorial synthesis of what would later mature into Eddie Beato’s theory of Chromatic-Organic Cognition.
Long before the terminology existed, the canvas reveals the interplay of chromatic sentience, organic intuition, symbolic architecture, atmospheric depth, and metaphysical luminosity — all cardinal elements of the theory’s later formulation.
The painting unifies foreground recognizability, bucolic dishevelment, spatial breathing, celestial chromas, and narrative quietude into a single organic continuum. In its arrangement of overlapping flora, luminous sky portals, reflective waters, and archetypal structures, the work anticipates the doctrine that consciousness, perception, and color are inseparable expressions of the same living intelligence. What Beato would one day articulate in philosophical language appears here embryonically in visual form — a prophetic harmony of perception, intuition, and spiritual chroma that would become the foundation of the Chromatic-Organic continuum
Socrates Donned In Modern Attire
Oil on stretched canvas: Life-Size: 40.75 x 69.5'' by Eddie Beato (2006)
This luminous canvas, created in Eddie Beato’s early thirties, stands as a remarkable testament to a young artist whose imagination, technique, and symbolic intuition had already surpassed the boundaries of age and training.
While many painters in their third decade are still wrestling with form, color, and compositional clarity, Beato was already constructing a metaphysical landscape — a world where nature, spirit, architecture, and inner psychology merge into a unified chromatic vision.
The painting reveals an artist who, even then, had begun to articulate the universe that would later mature into his full artistic and philosophical corpus: the Edenic serenity of Shanti, the celestial visitations of the Phoenix, the enveloping golden light, the symbolic architecture, and the interplay of darkness and revelation. What appears at first glance to be a bucolic landscape is, in truth, a young philosopher’s cosmogony.
The foreground, with its recognizable roses and duck-like birds, shows a painter already grounded in the organic laws of landscape composition.
The placement of flora anchors the viewer in something tangible and familiar. The stones in the water and the textured surface of the pond demonstrate his early understanding of depth, reflection, and movement. Even here, Beato avoids the parallelisms that nature disdains, opting instead for a living, asymmetrical arrangement that anticipates his later doctrine of bucolic dishevelment.
In the middle ground, the great tree rises as the axis mundi — a monumental trunk that divides yet unifies the composition. Its glowing bark, stippled light, and cosmic canopy reveal a chromatic sensibility far more mature than the artist’s age would suggest.
To the right, the winding path toward a chapel drenched in warm, golden illumination symbolizes interiority, meditation, and spiritual refuge. To the left, the receding waterfalls and classical rotunda evoke purification, memory, and humanity’s longing for the eternal forms.
The background climbs into ethereal mountains bathed in cool lavender light, culminating in a celestial apparition — a bird descending in luminous radiance: the Phoenix Bird, beyond philosophy and religion, Transcendentalism.
This, long before the painter conceived of Shanti’s metaphysics, is already the seed of his future spirituality: an annunciation of peace, revelation, and inner awakening. The star-like stippling across the sky reveals a fascination with cosmic texture, suggesting that even then Beato understood the heavens not as emptiness but as a lattice of living chromas.
Most striking is the unity of the whole. Every element — flora, fauna, water, architecture, sky — is bound by a single visionary intention. This reveals a young artist who was not merely decorating nature but revealing an interior world, a metaphysical geography that would later appear in his mature works: The Caveman at the Crossroads, Shanti with the Swan of Peace, The Entrance to Agharti, and the landscapes framing his philosophical texts.
For a man in his early thirties, this work is astonishing not only in execution but in foresight. It contains the DNA of Beato’s later aesthetic, spiritual, and philosophical identity. The painting is not the product of a developing talent — it is the early roar of a Renaissance mind who had not yet named what he already knew: that color, light, and symbolism belong to a single continuum of sentience.
Today, viewed in the calm maturity of his fifties, this early landscape reads like a prophecy of the man he would become. A self-portrait of the soul — years before the words, doctrines, and chromatic philosophies took form.
A Chromatic–Organic Interpretation
Painted in 2005, at age 35, during a period of profound contemplative solitude, this landscape stands as one of Eddie Beato’s earliest and most complete visual articulations of his spiritual, philosophical, and chromatic worldview. Far from being a simple pastoral scene, the work functions as a symbolic autobiography and metaphysical map, anticipating themes he would later develop in his Chromatic–Organic philosophy.
1, The Foreground Birds — Philosophy and Religion -- The Advancing Bird (Philosophy)
The bird stepping confidently forward, marked by its sharp bill and alert posture, symbolizes Philosophy. Its movement toward the viewer evokes inquiry, clarity, and intellectual courage. The figure reflects the rational and questioning impulse that animates Beato’s adult intellectual life, including his engagement with Plato, Schopenhauer, Goethe, Emerson, Wagner, and the foundations of his later Chromatic–Organic thought.
2. The Receding Bird (Religion)
The bird nestled among roses and shrubs represents Religion, specifically Beato’s Dominican childhood faith: Catholicism. Its movement inward, toward beauty and foliage, suggests devotion, memory, and inwardness. Rather than dominance, it conveys tenderness and sacred familiarity—an image of religion restored to its quiet, intimate home within the soul.
II. The Bird on the Mailbox — Revelation / The Messenger
A smaller bird perches atop a mailbox near the footpath. This figure symbolizes Revelation or the Messenger, the intermediary between visible reality and inward spiritual intuition. A mailbox receives messages; the bird atop it stands as the guardian and interpreter of those inward “letters.” This figure represents insight, intuition, and the subtle arrival of meaning from the deeper regions of experience.
III. The Dual Pathways — Dominican Faith and Philosophical Ascent
1. The Chapel Path (Religion / Dominican Republic)
A narrow path leading to a small rural chapel symbolizes Beato’s early religious formation in the Dominican Republic. This path evokes simplicity, domestic spirituality (1970s), and the quiet piety of island life. It represents the roots of faith embedded in childhood and memory.
2. The Bluish River (Peace and Philosophy)
The tumbling blue river stands for Beato’s philosophical journey. The river’s motion and cool chroma signify clarity, peace, reflection, reason, and the unfolding of a contemplative adult life. Flowing from the wooded highlands outward toward broader vistas, it symbolizes the widening sphere of intellectual maturity.
IV. The Golden Temple — The Ancient Greeks
A golden temple rises in the distance. This structure symbolizes Classical Wisdom—the heritage of Ancient Greece, Platonic ascent, Apollonian form, and the ideal of rational beauty. Distant in Beato’s early life but luminous on the horizon, the temple represents the destiny toward which his later philosophical development naturally moved.
V. The Phoenix Bird — Transcendentalism
High above the landscape spreads a golden Phoenix, the symbol of Transcendentalism and the realm beyond both Religion and Philosophy. Here the Phoenix embodies rebirth, illumination, and the highest spiritual ascent—the sphere of peace and transcendent chromatic being that Beato later named Shanti. Placed above all terrestrial paths, the Phoenix represents the soul’s ultimate horizon.
VI. The Three-Level Cosmology Encoded in the Painting
The painting presents a complete metaphysical hierarchy:
1. Religion
— The chapel, the roses, the receding bird
— childhood faith, inherited meaning, cultural roots
2. Philosophy
— The blue river, the advancing bird
— inquiry, clarity, reason, the adult mind’s ascent
3. Transcendence
— The Phoenix in the upper sky
— illumination, rebirth, peace, the sphere beyond doctrine and logic
This triadic progression parallels classical metaphysical structures in Plato, Emerson, Dante, and later in Beato’s Chromatic–Organic worldview.
VII. Conclusion — A Prophecy Fulfilled
Although created two decades before his mature philosophical writings, this painting already contains the essential architecture of Eddie Beato’s worldview:
• Dominican roots
• early religious sensibility
• the emergence of philosophical clarity
• the call of classical rational beauty
• the ascent toward transcendence
• the chromatic language that defines his aesthetics and metaphysics
The landscape thus stands not only as an artwork, but as a visual prophecy of Beato’s later intellectual and spiritual development.
A Representational Synthesis of Chromatic-Organic Cognition
This early visionary landscape stands today as a pictorial synthesis of what would later mature into Eddie Beato’s theory of Chromatic-Organic Cognition.
Long before the terminology existed, the canvas reveals the interplay of chromatic sentience, organic intuition, symbolic architecture, atmospheric depth, and metaphysical luminosity — all cardinal elements of the theory’s later formulation.
The painting unifies foreground recognizability, bucolic dishevelment, spatial breathing, celestial chromas, and narrative quietude into a single organic continuum. In its arrangement of overlapping flora, luminous sky portals, reflective waters, and archetypal structures, the work anticipates the doctrine that consciousness, perception, and color are inseparable expressions of the same living intelligence. What Beato would one day articulate in philosophical language appears here embryonically in visual form — a prophetic harmony of perception, intuition, and spiritual chroma that would become the foundation of the Chromatic-Organic continuum
Socrates Donned In Modern Attire
Oil on stretched canvas: Life-Size: 40.75 x 69.5'' by Eddie Beato (2006)
In this work, Eddie Beato reimagines the archetype of the philosopher. Socrate stands not in ancient robes, but in a modern suit, his hands poised at the chest in a gesture of quiet resolve. The figure is dignified yet contemplative, bridging the austerity of classical thought with the presence of a contemporary man.
The backdrop — columns opening onto luminous water and foliage — situates the subject in a timeless setting, where nature and architecture converse. The composition suggests that philosophy is not bound to antiquity but continues to inhabit modern lives, clothed differently but speaking with the same eternal voice.
Through this painting, Beato affirms his Renaissance vision: to connect past and present, myth and modernity, in works that resonate with enduring human dignity.
The backdrop — columns opening onto luminous water and foliage — situates the subject in a timeless setting, where nature and architecture converse. The composition suggests that philosophy is not bound to antiquity but continues to inhabit modern lives, clothed differently but speaking with the same eternal voice.
Through this painting, Beato affirms his Renaissance vision: to connect past and present, myth and modernity, in works that resonate with enduring human dignity.
Study On Nudes, Mixed Media On Buff Paper, Highlighted with Acrylic
Tadzio (after Death in Venice by Thomas Mann) Oil On Canvas, 11” X 13” (Pre-Raphaelite Technique)
Therefore, you and I, dear friend, more than ever, would be required to bolster our confidence, our inspiration, in the lives of the great artists of the past. Your value, your esteem as an artist, in the last resort, would depend on your own personal conviction, because many artists, writers and composers, some, of the highest caliber who ever lived, Dante, Mozart, Thoreau, among others, did not live long enough to reap the pecuniary benefits of their artworks.
Bridge of Love, Oil On Canvas 36 x 48''
Bridge of Love, Oil On Canvas 36 x 48''
From the outset, I paint with very little pigments, would use a goodly quantity of rags of white clothing, scotch tape, a sharp knife for cutting edges, and many other curious motley things for texture and modeling. Before the painting is completed, in all likelihood, I could have consumed four gallons of mineral spirit (Turpenoid to thinning the paint).
The Baptism of Jesus ~ Oil Study by Eddie Beato - Imprimatura (wash of brown ochre)
The Baptism of Jesus ~ Oil Study by Eddie Beato - Imprimatura (wash of brown ochre)
Study On Draft Horses, Mixed Media On Buff Paper, Highlighted with Acrylic
Study On Draft Horses, Charcoal Drawing On Paper with Washes of Warm Yellows and Oranges (2002)
Study On Draft Horses, Charcoal Drawing On Buff Paper:
Study On Draft Horses, Ink Drawing On White Paper:
Study On Horses, Pencil Drawing On Buff Paper:
Study For a Mermaid, Nausicaa, Ink On Paper:
Study On Flowerpots, Pencil- Charcol Drawing On Buff Paper:
Oil Study for Portrait of a Priest: Oil On Canvas (2004-2023)
Portrait of a Spanish Priest by Eddie Beato - New Version ~ Reconstructed With the Assistance of ChatGPT- 5 (September of 2025)
Portrait of a Priest - Reconstructed with AI ~ ChatGPT 5
Solitude, Pencil Drawing On Buff Paper:
Sarah Drummer, Model for “Our Lady Queen of Martyrs.”
Study On Angels, Pencil Drawing On Buff Paper:
Study On Anatomy at the Art Students League, Pencil On Paper (2003)
Study On Anatomy at the Art Students League, Pencil On Paper (2003)
My Art Teacher at the Art Students League in NYC, Mixed Media On Tinted Paper
Sophia, Oil On Canvas, 28 x 30'' by Ed. Beato
Eddie Beato, self-drawing, age 29, Ink On Paper
Nihilismo quiere decir nada, que la vida no tiene sentido:
When I view my life from the long lapses of decades, I am bound to say that nihilism has not yet touched my soul. I may dare compare Nihilism to the hideous god Moloch, because unlike the god Mammon, the former has a penchant for sacrifice, "nihilism," which is a bold negation to the fundamentals of life.
Los días se transcurren con prestos pasos, pero dentro de mi hay estancias plácidas, tiempos largos, adagios tranquilos de aquel divino compositor, aquel gran artista, un poeta, que supo vivir así sus momentos sin la perturbación del tiempo.
Vivir sin la perturbación del tiempo y sus afanes, es buscar sabiduría en lo que es sensato.
La dulzura de vivir la siento más en la música de Handel y Haydn, y sí estas armonías tienen tales efectos, como medicina para el alma, entonces diría que el dolor rara vez me tornó pesimista en lo que concierne al significado de la vida.
I do believe life is very beautiful, and though I have often experienced the reality of pain, loss, aging, illness, et al., I can say that I have a natural disposition towards the heaven of the arts and music.
And If I were to reach the of God of Abraham, I would prefer the dreadful solemnity of those places, mountainous, dismal, waste, but here and there adorned with delicate pastures, lovely meadows, bluest skies and splendid views, ideal for a soul still endowed with lofty sentiments as those of the Children of Aurora (Homer's Iliad & Odyssey).
Such religious person would win my heart, because the God of the Ancient People, be He the Jewish God of Abraham, or the Greek god, Zeus, were very interesting divinities, former personifications of our deepest high-flown aspirations, highly paved Celestial Cities, as conceived by a people not yet sagged down by the Pervasive Ghettoism of our times. Vivimos en tiempos de cólera, pero también en tiempos de locura y Nihilismo!
El Dios de Abraham ha perdido feligreses, porque la grey de nuestra época no tiene oído para la música de Bach or Handel. En esto tendría que admitir a F. Nietzsche en su divina locura. El tenía razón en denunciar este "dios chiquito" de nuestras ideas religiosas, decadentes, pero nadie mató al Dios de Abraham, las masas se han suicidado.
Quien no entiende y captas estas líneas, como diría Jose Ortega y Gasset, es porque ya es parte de este barbarismo. El error de Nietzsche, y esto lo saben los nihilistas, la grandeza de un Dios es que el puede existir aún en el silencio y cenizas de los siglos.
Los antiguos Hebreos, los Griegos de Pericles, Sus Personificaciones de lo Divino:
Theirs was this religious warmheartedness as rarely felt in the ghettoes of New York City, whose ideas of a little god, as reduced by the gadgets of our times, could be said to lack the stunning magnificence of a terrific God thus throned in the minds of men the likes of Abraham or Phidias the Greek artist.
True, just like Miguel Unamuno, Sobre El Sentimiento Trágico de la Vida, we all need to nurse our inner selves in the Mountaintops of Faith and Conviction.
Let us today rise above our circumstances with the wings of Pegasus, and may our inspiration carry us aloft to the heaven of Abraham and Phidias!
When I view my life from the long lapses of decades, I am bound to say that nihilism has not yet touched my soul. I may dare compare Nihilism to the hideous god Moloch, because unlike the god Mammon, the former has a penchant for sacrifice, "nihilism," which is a bold negation to the fundamentals of life.
Los días se transcurren con prestos pasos, pero dentro de mi hay estancias plácidas, tiempos largos, adagios tranquilos de aquel divino compositor, aquel gran artista, un poeta, que supo vivir así sus momentos sin la perturbación del tiempo.
Vivir sin la perturbación del tiempo y sus afanes, es buscar sabiduría en lo que es sensato.
La dulzura de vivir la siento más en la música de Handel y Haydn, y sí estas armonías tienen tales efectos, como medicina para el alma, entonces diría que el dolor rara vez me tornó pesimista en lo que concierne al significado de la vida.
I do believe life is very beautiful, and though I have often experienced the reality of pain, loss, aging, illness, et al., I can say that I have a natural disposition towards the heaven of the arts and music.
And If I were to reach the of God of Abraham, I would prefer the dreadful solemnity of those places, mountainous, dismal, waste, but here and there adorned with delicate pastures, lovely meadows, bluest skies and splendid views, ideal for a soul still endowed with lofty sentiments as those of the Children of Aurora (Homer's Iliad & Odyssey).
Such religious person would win my heart, because the God of the Ancient People, be He the Jewish God of Abraham, or the Greek god, Zeus, were very interesting divinities, former personifications of our deepest high-flown aspirations, highly paved Celestial Cities, as conceived by a people not yet sagged down by the Pervasive Ghettoism of our times. Vivimos en tiempos de cólera, pero también en tiempos de locura y Nihilismo!
El Dios de Abraham ha perdido feligreses, porque la grey de nuestra época no tiene oído para la música de Bach or Handel. En esto tendría que admitir a F. Nietzsche en su divina locura. El tenía razón en denunciar este "dios chiquito" de nuestras ideas religiosas, decadentes, pero nadie mató al Dios de Abraham, las masas se han suicidado.
Quien no entiende y captas estas líneas, como diría Jose Ortega y Gasset, es porque ya es parte de este barbarismo. El error de Nietzsche, y esto lo saben los nihilistas, la grandeza de un Dios es que el puede existir aún en el silencio y cenizas de los siglos.
Los antiguos Hebreos, los Griegos de Pericles, Sus Personificaciones de lo Divino:
Theirs was this religious warmheartedness as rarely felt in the ghettoes of New York City, whose ideas of a little god, as reduced by the gadgets of our times, could be said to lack the stunning magnificence of a terrific God thus throned in the minds of men the likes of Abraham or Phidias the Greek artist.
True, just like Miguel Unamuno, Sobre El Sentimiento Trágico de la Vida, we all need to nurse our inner selves in the Mountaintops of Faith and Conviction.
Let us today rise above our circumstances with the wings of Pegasus, and may our inspiration carry us aloft to the heaven of Abraham and Phidias!
The Clash of the Titans: Nietzsche, Sartre, Cadmus, Goethe and Thoreau
This is my final essay on contemporary art, and I hope to have stirred within you a new artist, a new thinker, a new terrific creature blissfully reveling in the inexhaustible forces of Mother Nature, sometimes webbing through the encircling networks of creativity, sometimes ebbing in this inly-felt sense of indestructibleness, "immortality," when confronting the dark realms of Nihilism: Hell.
This is my final essay on contemporary art, and I hope to have stirred within you a new artist, a new thinker, a new terrific creature blissfully reveling in the inexhaustible forces of Mother Nature, sometimes webbing through the encircling networks of creativity, sometimes ebbing in this inly-felt sense of indestructibleness, "immortality," when confronting the dark realms of Nihilism: Hell.
Study On Human Anatomy, Charcoal Drawing On Paper with Washes of Warm Yellows and Oranges (Water-Colors, 2002)
The morbid effects of our civilization is acridly felt in the nihilistic artworks of our times, they are often bent on mocking anything meaningful under the sun, and life, according to these nihilists, is said to be bereft of any beauty, reverence, and significance. Life is absurd. For some friends, and perhaps you wish to side with this group, it is simply what it is, but viewed from the perspective of nihilism, existence is simply meaningless.
I fought myself out of the gates of Hades.
Centaur fighting a snake, ink on paper (2002)
My personal beliefs are to be assessed as a divine syncretism that is suited for souls like me, because after long years of spiritual quest under the heaven of St. John, the Apostle, it dawned to me that everyone is born with certain degrees of revelations, illuminations and epiphanies.
The stars' sundry glories would require souls of different kinds, different beings, different essences, different spirits, different worlds as befitting the kindred nature and evolution of our spiritual development.
The landscape of my canvas is vast, like the splendid sunset of an old sage, a blessed seer, because I am totally convinced that within the soul of a man-woman, there are to be found fresh magical streams of holy waters, sacred places, whose divine powers may have the uplifting effects to re-awaking me to a new aspect of my life --right here in New York City.
To say that today I am finally stepping in the threshold of a new existence, is indeed my victory. Far-off, lo! I behold this world of Nihilism, waste, dismal, and inhabited by hideous creatures whose ugly faces and grimaces could give me chills. They likewise would look at me, eyes flashing with dread and horror, could curse my existence for having escaped their clutches --hasta la vista amigo!
The stars' sundry glories would require souls of different kinds, different beings, different essences, different spirits, different worlds as befitting the kindred nature and evolution of our spiritual development.
The landscape of my canvas is vast, like the splendid sunset of an old sage, a blessed seer, because I am totally convinced that within the soul of a man-woman, there are to be found fresh magical streams of holy waters, sacred places, whose divine powers may have the uplifting effects to re-awaking me to a new aspect of my life --right here in New York City.
To say that today I am finally stepping in the threshold of a new existence, is indeed my victory. Far-off, lo! I behold this world of Nihilism, waste, dismal, and inhabited by hideous creatures whose ugly faces and grimaces could give me chills. They likewise would look at me, eyes flashing with dread and horror, could curse my existence for having escaped their clutches --hasta la vista amigo!
Living with conviction is to believe in immortality.
When I sought to ride my Horse Pegasus up to the high-paved ways of heaven with Homer and the Ancient Greeks, I must admit that I was required to set myself free from such plethora quantities of worthless books, gibberish and rubbish ad infinitum, contemporary authors, whose pernicious thoughts almost poisoned me with morbid feelings of decadence and sickness.
By reading my mind, dear friend, you may embrace me as a man whose struggle is perhaps the struggle of many artists out there.
Philosophy and art are not always in harmony, and when an artist asserts that his or her art is neither concerned with the question on the meaning in life, nor with Nihilism, we must then assume that the artist is either an iconoclast or an extraterrestrial from Jupiter, a terrifying world ablaze with fire, running amok with swirling turbid clouds of gas, exhalation and debris.
The Realist vs the Abstract Artist:
The abstract artist is not a new species, but an eternal recurrent principle in the flux of time and creation. The Abstract artist is as much necessary as is the Realist, for without one or the other, we would say that the universe would be but one-sided whole, dimensionless, a one-eyed monster like the Cyclopes of Homer (Odyssey).
Bereft of dimensionality and multiplicities, we would feel as though trapped in Plato's cave, whose impervious walls are said to be mottled with colorful things but without depth, width and latitude. True, the cosmogony of the abstract artist could be said to be formless, vaporous, nebulous, like the beginning of worlds, chaotic, dios Kronos, but here lies the cosmogenesis of a great artist.
When I sought to ride my Horse Pegasus up to the high-paved ways of heaven with Homer and the Ancient Greeks, I must admit that I was required to set myself free from such plethora quantities of worthless books, gibberish and rubbish ad infinitum, contemporary authors, whose pernicious thoughts almost poisoned me with morbid feelings of decadence and sickness.
By reading my mind, dear friend, you may embrace me as a man whose struggle is perhaps the struggle of many artists out there.
Philosophy and art are not always in harmony, and when an artist asserts that his or her art is neither concerned with the question on the meaning in life, nor with Nihilism, we must then assume that the artist is either an iconoclast or an extraterrestrial from Jupiter, a terrifying world ablaze with fire, running amok with swirling turbid clouds of gas, exhalation and debris.
The Realist vs the Abstract Artist:
The abstract artist is not a new species, but an eternal recurrent principle in the flux of time and creation. The Abstract artist is as much necessary as is the Realist, for without one or the other, we would say that the universe would be but one-sided whole, dimensionless, a one-eyed monster like the Cyclopes of Homer (Odyssey).
Bereft of dimensionality and multiplicities, we would feel as though trapped in Plato's cave, whose impervious walls are said to be mottled with colorful things but without depth, width and latitude. True, the cosmogony of the abstract artist could be said to be formless, vaporous, nebulous, like the beginning of worlds, chaotic, dios Kronos, but here lies the cosmogenesis of a great artist.
Natural Disaster, by Leonardo Da Vinci:
On the other hand, I am little persuaded to believe that representational art, as the "photoshops of our modern realists," could deserve the hifalutin praise as accorded to former artists who used their prolific imagination subservient to some other interesting goals, namely, the revival of the Hellenistic Culture.
William Bouguereau, like Frederick Lord Leighnton or Alma Tadema, nineteenth century artists, simply used their imaginative powers to reviving the great Ancient Greeks, and their technical prowess ought to be admired but as a moral force behind the ethos of former artists and philosophers.
Obsession with the Hellenistic Culture was sparked by the writings of Goethe and Nietzsche, but the Germans, in the words of George Santayana, had succumbed to incomprehensible bouts of barbarism, and while emulating the Ancient Greeks, they simply brought the whole of Europe to destruction.
Somos Bárbaros:
In the aftermaths of Second World War, nihilistic philosophers the likes of Sartre and Cadmus would further plunge the art world establishment into benighted barbarism, and thus the toilsome labors of five centuries of enlightenment came to naught.
Today, countless artists are not aware that their true gods are Sartre and Cadmus, and we all know that Picasso, like Dali, wise men of our times, would reap fortunes upon the ruins of Nihilism. Of course, following the old motto of profitability, the crazier the better:
Cuanto más loco mejor:
William Bouguereau, like Frederick Lord Leighnton or Alma Tadema, nineteenth century artists, simply used their imaginative powers to reviving the great Ancient Greeks, and their technical prowess ought to be admired but as a moral force behind the ethos of former artists and philosophers.
Obsession with the Hellenistic Culture was sparked by the writings of Goethe and Nietzsche, but the Germans, in the words of George Santayana, had succumbed to incomprehensible bouts of barbarism, and while emulating the Ancient Greeks, they simply brought the whole of Europe to destruction.
Somos Bárbaros:
In the aftermaths of Second World War, nihilistic philosophers the likes of Sartre and Cadmus would further plunge the art world establishment into benighted barbarism, and thus the toilsome labors of five centuries of enlightenment came to naught.
Today, countless artists are not aware that their true gods are Sartre and Cadmus, and we all know that Picasso, like Dali, wise men of our times, would reap fortunes upon the ruins of Nihilism. Of course, following the old motto of profitability, the crazier the better:
Cuanto más loco mejor:
Hades, Ink On Buff Paper Highlighted with Acrylic (2002)
The masses are too intelligent, so these dudes would argue, to knowing their true masters, and thus these "Avant-Garde Artists," would express themselves as though possessed of the highest values in the philosophy of Nietzsche.
Today's representational artists:
Their technical prowess may win my admiration, but their subject-matters are often based on stiff portraitures, and the grand canvas of the gods is missing.
The prolific imagination of our great artists have found outlet in the masterpieces of the motion pictures, and I cannot stop praising the master minds behind the Wrath of the Titans, or the Clash of the Titans. These are, by any bent of the imagination mind-boggling masterpieces of our times! Everything there is simply stunning, from abstract to realism, the scenes and actors are veritable classical master pieces of our times.
The proliferation of abstract artists and philosophers is a phenomenon of our times.
Of course, my abstract art is often expressed in landscape paintings, especially the background, because formless things and fleeting figments would appear the most illusive but when deprived of any objective reality.
Therefore the first perquisite for any self-abstraction is lack objectivity, a golden principle that is the hallmark of geniuses the likes of Pollock or Nihilo, whereat our mind is left to ramble into any direction in the boundless realms of the imaginative, the suggestive and immeasurable.
This artistic genre, while seemingly aimless, may have the power to abetting our mind into every fancy in the phenomena of the subjective, the profoundest fleeting visions in the threshold of our consciousness, i.e., striking sighting explosions as when we knuckle our eyes' radar-lenses in the unfathomable expanses of utter darkness.
From this perspective, abstract art could be useful, nay meaningful, but in "vis-a-vis juxtaposition" to another dimension in the cognitive kaleidoscopic dissonance of the artist's inner worlds.
The fragmentation of ourselves, "inner pluralization," could be compared to polytheism, because we seem to be actuated by the fickle whims of one thousand mysterious forces, all competing for the throne of our mind.
Finding cohesiveness in the chaotic world of our mind is a lifelong journey, an Odyssey, because we must "plumb deep into the far reaches of psyche," and this discipline, Gnosis, would require the benevolent assistance of higher teachers and masters.
As an earthy creature, I would endeavor to find a comprehensive systematic approach to my inner self in the awe-inspiring Contemplations of Aristotle, and thus be able to idealize, in the Canvas of the Eternal, every dawn, every glorious sunset as rarely seen in the grand spectacles of the gods of yore.
Frederick Church, American landscape artist, could be said to be an abstract artist with striking objectivity. His representational depiction of the Niagara Falls, Canada, could be appraised as abstract art in the liberation of our terrifying creative forces.
Finally, Leonardo Da Vinci had already expressed his views on the Jupiterian artists of his time, because landscapes paintings were once deemed as abstract art for the diletante.
Zooming into the Grand Canvas of existence would lead us into periodic instances of delightful self-abstraction, seances, raptures and riveting escapades into a chaotic world highly more meaningful. But you must fight your way out of the Gates of Hades, lest you lose your battle in the underworld of chaos, and perhaps never be able to reach the Mount Olympus of your genius.
Like Dante Alighieri, or Salvador Dali, you must be an artist of the highest caliber!
Once again, art is very subjective, but at this point, you probably understand what I mean by Nihilism.
The idea of God is the very measure of a people's archetype: collective psyche. Jews, Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, Hindus, Mormons, Scientologist, Celts, among others religious groups, are all derivations of the kaleidoscopic manifestations of the God of Abraham (Ein-soph, Yahveh, Jehovah). But the Ancient Greeks, who, are generally acknowledged as the most interesting people who ever walked the earth, are denied of their own followers and divinities.
Some Christians are quick to quoting the Book of Acts (...), to denouncing the ignorant superstitions of the Ancient Greeks, for some Hellenistic degenerates --as those who betrayed their great past with Pericles and Alexander-- in their stupid idolatry worshiped St. Paul as the god Apolo, for it seemed that the newly-converted disciple had defied the bite of a snake.
Today, 2,000.00 years later, the Western Civilization is suffering a tremendous spiritual annihilation: is bleeding profusely on the altar of Nihilism: el Dios feo Moloch. We are morally bankrupt (period).
The Ancient Greeks, when compared to modern people, Los Bárbaros de La Epoca Moderna, the children of Homero could be said to be almost extraterrestrials in their sublime ideas of divinities. One only has to read a few lines of the Odyssey of Homer, and forthwith one is transformed into a new human being.
My admiration for the ancient Greeks is chiefly an artistic one, for it would be madness to return to a benighted time of so much idolatry, unsound indulgences and abomination. Now, I must admit that dios Zeus, if judged from the current Ghettoism of our time, would seem a greater a god than this "dios chiquito" whose children have neither ears, nor eyes for the sublime beauty of the Odyssey of Homer.
Such Jeremiah-Perspective, in search of a bigger GOD, would lead us back to a dreamtime when reality was indistinguishable from magic, beauty, divinity, and things ineffable.
As I write these last lines on Nihilism, a caring friend just informed me that my portfolio had been further corrected of any awkward "grammatical faux pas" or any unwise remarks on religion and abstract art, but I am little disturbed by the snarky criticism of my contemporaries. I shall read my lines one by one, and would conscientiously express myself but in conformity to my own experiences and personal conviction. Some drafts are interspersed with paintings, and I felt my life infused with the colorful landscapes of Spirituality with the Arts.
For the last three days, my body, as though healed by the magic of light and divinity, has been experiencing sedative moments of well-being and joy, and these are signs of a cheerful spirit in the celebration of life.
I have to say that I am a religious frog, a happy grass-hoper, but only by the power of arts and inspiration, and like Jacob Boeheme, I have had such moments of inner illumination, inner peace, with this God who lives and breaths through my own being.
Ah! I cannot conceive my Mountainous God without the assistance of such propitious elements, vaporous airy figments, these dread-feelings, so essential, so sacred as shrined in the old stony temples of the Ancient Greeks.
These are awful places still exuding the ashes and libations of gods long thought dead. Such ceremony, such rituals, such frankincenses, their scents intoxicate me with the vim of life. When I fix my eyes upon those old stones, however scattered, I shudder with thrills of gloomy delight at the Ancient Sites of our high-flown longings.
Didn't the Ancient Greeks feel the same dread when roving through places wild, dismal and wasted, as those of Ancient Egypt?
And there, in yonder spot, flanked by loveliest verdant groves in the wild land of Arcadia, I behold this beautiful creature, her black hair's ringlets falling most graciously upon her stately shoulders. She is a Greek woman. Her skin, smooth like a dove, her cheeks and smile, like a sunset shining amidst scudding clouds of innocence and beauty.
Her white gown, as donned by a holy handmaiden in the Temple of Athena, could incite my mind to a better conception of beauty and divinity in NYC. Her folds seem to set my mind free of any cumbersome thoughts, and her gentle aspect is alike docile but lively in eyes nourished with the bounteous generosity of Mother Nature.
Here is this drawing which I sketched, from life, back in 2013. The model was a beautiful lass from Serbia, and like a direct descendant of the Ancient Greeks, her calm aspect reminded of a mermaid.
Today's representational artists:
Their technical prowess may win my admiration, but their subject-matters are often based on stiff portraitures, and the grand canvas of the gods is missing.
The prolific imagination of our great artists have found outlet in the masterpieces of the motion pictures, and I cannot stop praising the master minds behind the Wrath of the Titans, or the Clash of the Titans. These are, by any bent of the imagination mind-boggling masterpieces of our times! Everything there is simply stunning, from abstract to realism, the scenes and actors are veritable classical master pieces of our times.
The proliferation of abstract artists and philosophers is a phenomenon of our times.
Of course, my abstract art is often expressed in landscape paintings, especially the background, because formless things and fleeting figments would appear the most illusive but when deprived of any objective reality.
Therefore the first perquisite for any self-abstraction is lack objectivity, a golden principle that is the hallmark of geniuses the likes of Pollock or Nihilo, whereat our mind is left to ramble into any direction in the boundless realms of the imaginative, the suggestive and immeasurable.
This artistic genre, while seemingly aimless, may have the power to abetting our mind into every fancy in the phenomena of the subjective, the profoundest fleeting visions in the threshold of our consciousness, i.e., striking sighting explosions as when we knuckle our eyes' radar-lenses in the unfathomable expanses of utter darkness.
From this perspective, abstract art could be useful, nay meaningful, but in "vis-a-vis juxtaposition" to another dimension in the cognitive kaleidoscopic dissonance of the artist's inner worlds.
The fragmentation of ourselves, "inner pluralization," could be compared to polytheism, because we seem to be actuated by the fickle whims of one thousand mysterious forces, all competing for the throne of our mind.
Finding cohesiveness in the chaotic world of our mind is a lifelong journey, an Odyssey, because we must "plumb deep into the far reaches of psyche," and this discipline, Gnosis, would require the benevolent assistance of higher teachers and masters.
As an earthy creature, I would endeavor to find a comprehensive systematic approach to my inner self in the awe-inspiring Contemplations of Aristotle, and thus be able to idealize, in the Canvas of the Eternal, every dawn, every glorious sunset as rarely seen in the grand spectacles of the gods of yore.
Frederick Church, American landscape artist, could be said to be an abstract artist with striking objectivity. His representational depiction of the Niagara Falls, Canada, could be appraised as abstract art in the liberation of our terrifying creative forces.
Finally, Leonardo Da Vinci had already expressed his views on the Jupiterian artists of his time, because landscapes paintings were once deemed as abstract art for the diletante.
Zooming into the Grand Canvas of existence would lead us into periodic instances of delightful self-abstraction, seances, raptures and riveting escapades into a chaotic world highly more meaningful. But you must fight your way out of the Gates of Hades, lest you lose your battle in the underworld of chaos, and perhaps never be able to reach the Mount Olympus of your genius.
Like Dante Alighieri, or Salvador Dali, you must be an artist of the highest caliber!
Once again, art is very subjective, but at this point, you probably understand what I mean by Nihilism.
The idea of God is the very measure of a people's archetype: collective psyche. Jews, Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, Hindus, Mormons, Scientologist, Celts, among others religious groups, are all derivations of the kaleidoscopic manifestations of the God of Abraham (Ein-soph, Yahveh, Jehovah). But the Ancient Greeks, who, are generally acknowledged as the most interesting people who ever walked the earth, are denied of their own followers and divinities.
Some Christians are quick to quoting the Book of Acts (...), to denouncing the ignorant superstitions of the Ancient Greeks, for some Hellenistic degenerates --as those who betrayed their great past with Pericles and Alexander-- in their stupid idolatry worshiped St. Paul as the god Apolo, for it seemed that the newly-converted disciple had defied the bite of a snake.
Today, 2,000.00 years later, the Western Civilization is suffering a tremendous spiritual annihilation: is bleeding profusely on the altar of Nihilism: el Dios feo Moloch. We are morally bankrupt (period).
The Ancient Greeks, when compared to modern people, Los Bárbaros de La Epoca Moderna, the children of Homero could be said to be almost extraterrestrials in their sublime ideas of divinities. One only has to read a few lines of the Odyssey of Homer, and forthwith one is transformed into a new human being.
My admiration for the ancient Greeks is chiefly an artistic one, for it would be madness to return to a benighted time of so much idolatry, unsound indulgences and abomination. Now, I must admit that dios Zeus, if judged from the current Ghettoism of our time, would seem a greater a god than this "dios chiquito" whose children have neither ears, nor eyes for the sublime beauty of the Odyssey of Homer.
Such Jeremiah-Perspective, in search of a bigger GOD, would lead us back to a dreamtime when reality was indistinguishable from magic, beauty, divinity, and things ineffable.
As I write these last lines on Nihilism, a caring friend just informed me that my portfolio had been further corrected of any awkward "grammatical faux pas" or any unwise remarks on religion and abstract art, but I am little disturbed by the snarky criticism of my contemporaries. I shall read my lines one by one, and would conscientiously express myself but in conformity to my own experiences and personal conviction. Some drafts are interspersed with paintings, and I felt my life infused with the colorful landscapes of Spirituality with the Arts.
For the last three days, my body, as though healed by the magic of light and divinity, has been experiencing sedative moments of well-being and joy, and these are signs of a cheerful spirit in the celebration of life.
I have to say that I am a religious frog, a happy grass-hoper, but only by the power of arts and inspiration, and like Jacob Boeheme, I have had such moments of inner illumination, inner peace, with this God who lives and breaths through my own being.
Ah! I cannot conceive my Mountainous God without the assistance of such propitious elements, vaporous airy figments, these dread-feelings, so essential, so sacred as shrined in the old stony temples of the Ancient Greeks.
These are awful places still exuding the ashes and libations of gods long thought dead. Such ceremony, such rituals, such frankincenses, their scents intoxicate me with the vim of life. When I fix my eyes upon those old stones, however scattered, I shudder with thrills of gloomy delight at the Ancient Sites of our high-flown longings.
Didn't the Ancient Greeks feel the same dread when roving through places wild, dismal and wasted, as those of Ancient Egypt?
And there, in yonder spot, flanked by loveliest verdant groves in the wild land of Arcadia, I behold this beautiful creature, her black hair's ringlets falling most graciously upon her stately shoulders. She is a Greek woman. Her skin, smooth like a dove, her cheeks and smile, like a sunset shining amidst scudding clouds of innocence and beauty.
Her white gown, as donned by a holy handmaiden in the Temple of Athena, could incite my mind to a better conception of beauty and divinity in NYC. Her folds seem to set my mind free of any cumbersome thoughts, and her gentle aspect is alike docile but lively in eyes nourished with the bounteous generosity of Mother Nature.
Here is this drawing which I sketched, from life, back in 2013. The model was a beautiful lass from Serbia, and like a direct descendant of the Ancient Greeks, her calm aspect reminded of a mermaid.
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