The Paintbrush of Warriors

A peer of mine once asked me where was the art in fighting, what warranted the word art to follow martial. My peer noted fighting had a simple end goal, to win, so a fight boiled down to merely executing the proper moves to win. This question bothered me greatly. It stewed in my head for quite a time as I grappled with how to convey the beauty of martial arts. To me beauty is the quality to be so intrinsically in-tune with nature that it transcends the mere space and time it occupies. Do musicians merely manufacture notes to induce listening? Does a painter simply scribe on a canvas for others to view? I argue that such is not the case. Instead I present the case that martial arts such as any art requires the heart and soul to be the driving factor. It is not mere movements that drive an artist but rather an entire metaphysical wave sent from the universe. When I myself partake in the martial arts, despite whatever adversity I might encounter, I feel not only my body moving freely but my mind is soaring as well. The sensation of practicing it is so aesthetically aligned with my being that the euphoria is mesmerizing. Those who have ever felt one with any art can attest to how amazingly in sync with reality one can be. My thoughts are still juvenile, my writing still infantile, so I still do no justice to how truly the martial arts affect me. I will say that it is an art form and will continue to make stride to prove my statement true.