What You See Is What You (may or may not) Get

2/13/2006


There has long been a debate between artists over the concept of white space. Good or bad? Lots or none at all? Valuable or insignificant? Is it worthwhile to have an area that’s completely untouched?

Having a white space makes colors pop. The object the artist is trying to draw becomes more easily visible, more alive, more accessible. Do we look at art to satiate our senses, or do we want to be left wondering about something? Perhaps this is the allure of art as a whole- the fact that we can always be wondering about something. “Was that clean space meant to be there? Is the painting unfinished? Is the artist trying to say something?” But maybe white space just causes us to overthink.

Some things are better left unsaid, left to the imagination, or just left to the dogs. An element of mystery keeps things exciting- keeps you coming back for more. Another look, another taste, another conversation, another lingering glance. There is something unspeakably sexy and raw about what isn’t said or shown. Do you want the girl that spills her life story and bares it all, or the girl that has a few secrets and keeps on a string of pearls? What you don’t know makes you beg for round two.

However, staying to learn more may not be the best reason to stay in the relationship. What happens when Gatsby’s green light is gone? His element of mystery has vanished and his desire for Daisy has went with it. Perhaps this is why middle-aged men that have been married for twenty years have affairs. There are no secrets left by that time. What you see is what you already have, and that is either reassuring (to a woman) or terrifying (to a man).

Having a white space in a relationship lets you see what you want to see. Are the unfilled corners purity or concealment? Is her mysteriousness just coyness, or is she hiding something? White space allows the artist to choose what the viewer will pay attention to, and this is a useful skill in a relationship. But is it a skill of deception? Is hiding part of the picture fair to the person trying to understand it?

Perhaps we all deceive each other in the beginning. It’s a part of the relationship game we assume must be played. Trying to figure a few things out is expected. The first time through Beloved, the first glimpse of Starry Night, the first date- we are thrilled by what we don’t know. This is the same allure of the dark stranger in a bar and the new car smell. We all love that initial “getting to know you” stage.

Consistency is not only the hobgoblin of foolish minds, but the hobgoblin of foolish hearts as well. Subconsciously or not, we’re all aware of what our significant other wants to hear. The cutthroat game of ambiguity has no real definitions, but I think all blind-daters out there on V-day know exactly how to play.