Schopenhauer makes the claim that life is defined by struggle, a pointless game, an illusion that we take hold of. Though there is no objective meaning to this struggle, we nonetheless are defined by our will to understand reality through our principles of sufficient reason. For Schopenhauer, art serves as a means of understanding reality, specifically metaphysical reality. It may be constructed, but it is the only one we truly have. I think I agree with this conception of beauty. I tend to reject the idea that there exists any kind of objective beauty or definable beauty. Most of the meaning that I derive in my life i know to be a fabrication of my own mind... but this does not trouble me. I find great pleasure and meaning in the artistic realm that I have created for myself, through my will
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