What is art?
A question that held a much deeper meaning than most liked to think. To Deidara, art was so much more than painting or literature. To him, art was an expression of self, a reflection of life. For as long as humans exist we claim to live long and fulfilling lives, but in comparison to the earth itself, what are we but a small ripple in the sea of time.
To Deidara, art was so much more. It was a highlight of life at it's peak, brief and beautiful. The brilliance of a life fully lived presented in a single, spectacular show of awe. To fully understand the beauty of a life one must first understand the difference between living and surviving. To survive simply leads to a hollow existence, whereas to truly live one must express their creativity through any means possible.
The temporary nature of Deidara's art was a example of just that. The fleeting beauty of a mere second, forever lost from the world after, only meant to be witnessed by select few. And to be a part of such art was nothing more than an honor, every instance of your life coming together for one final show. The celebration of a life well lived, implanting a lasting impression on all who witness it.
To Deidara, life was short. With the highest point of someone's life being their death, and instead of dying pathetic and old, one should die at the peak of their prime. They should becoming art themselves, transcending the meaning altogether. Painting their life abstractly throughout the heavens. One should aim to become the art they so desperately pour their soul into, for achieving this would be the highest level of art. So what is art you ask?
Art is an explosion.