EDITORIAL

Sorrow, joy and hope constitute the trilogy of a surviving art. A holy trinity of inner feelings, multi-dimensional visions and touching honesty of the depiction of strength and weakness of humankind. Through art, this sublime universal language, pain and happiness transcend the frontiers of the art landscape to reach out for people like you and me, perhaps nature, the sacred and the damned as well and levitate in all of us, aspirations, dreams, hope and fantastic ecstasy. We dream and live through art. Some die beneath the wings of art, while others rise above the clouds to touch the face of God. So many political ideologies and social systems separate human beings and nourish the contradiction and misunderstanding of eternal truthful values. Only, art unites people from all walks of life, faiths, beliefs, ethnic origins and races. Only art brings people together to celebrate and render homage to the divine beauty of the world, and perhaps to the dormant goodness we forgot somewhere in the shadows of our hearts.

This issue of the Monthly Herald Art Section is devoted and consecrated to the theme of joy, pain and hope in art. More precisely the vibrant and bleeding feelings of the Diasporan artists wherever they are. Some of them became famous and wealthy. Others dissipated in the dark alley of forgotten dreams and obscurity. Some of them gave to the world magnificent work, yet, while they were still alive and struggling for survival, nobody would buy their art, and nobody gave them a helping hand. After their death, their work became masterpieces and greedy art agents rushed like termite to devour and possess those paintings, hoping to make a fortune out of the misery and fame of the departed unfortunate artists. I brought those artists to you. Their paintings are a living example of the failure and the triumph, the misery and satisfaction, the failure and success of the human spirit. Sail into their enchanting and fragile world. Touch the immortality they left on the edges of their paintings. And speak softly and with dignity, maybe, just maybe, their souls are still around..

Maximillien de Lafayette