I have just begun reading Picture of Dorian Gray and I am bubbling with so many emotions that I could hardly wait to finish it before writing about it. So decided to air my views in this article before they lose steam.

Let me begin by saying that Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde is the finest creation on earth. It is not just a book but a picturesque painting, a rare art created on the canvas of a novel by the most sensitive artist ever, using the most colorful palettes.

The story is hardly important here, though it is quite unusual too, but more than the plot, the first two chapters have impressed me with their sheer beauty.

Every word, every phrase resonates with a unique charm, warming my heart and tingling my brain. It taps on the artistic soul, leaving it whole. I am getting poetic as it can hardly be described in bland prose. Rich in witty comments, heart wringing philosophies and the most ardent exhibitions of nature the book has won my heart. It so simply describes the basic funda of being an artist that I am dumbfounded by its sheer simplicity.

Every creator, be it a poet, a movie maker, a painter or a singer, begins his journey as a passionate soul, who finds rhythm in words/colors/music. Those notes are his life, chiming with his soul. He writes, he paints, he sings for his own, pours down his deepest thoughts, his heart felt emotions in his art, giving it a rare identity, a beautiful uniqueness.

It is pure pleasure in initial stages, enough to drown him in his own creative juices. He is drunk on his own temptations, full of his own emotions. His rawness, his innocence charms the readers, audience, onlookers. Pure unadulterated creativity is indeed charming in all colors and moods.

But as the popularity increases, the artist tries to fit himself into a mold, attempts to fulfill his benefactors fantasies, his art gets infused with his praising audience. He is carried away by their emotions, forgetting his own soul. And here begins the downfall. His art loses the magic, the rare touch. The quality deteriorates, quantity overwhelms. Movies flop, poems fall flat and paintings look dead. Why? Because there is no more of artist’s soul. He has obliterated himself for others and thus becomes one of them, the ordinary one.

As I began reading Picture of Dorian Gray, I felt sad that Oscar Wilde wrote just one novel. But as I finish writing this post, I feel its good that he stopped at just one as it has retained all the innocence, the purity of his soul unblemished by lame attempts to please or flatter the readers or worse still to adhere to the rules of social and literary circles.

I don’t know when will I finish reading this book as there is so much to imbibe in it that I am proceeding at a snail pace, but I insist that every creative person should read at least the first two chapters and taste the sublime creativity I just enjoyed! Oscar Wilde is the ultimate inspiration for every artist. How I wish I could produce just one such masterpiece!