HUMAN.

Dear Artists,

 

We all have 3 common grounds of expressions

 

I.

One common idea to keep our feets grounded while the rest of our heads wandering in the universe

Because we artists are the universe

Specs of stars

Take the blood that course through my vessels

Turn them into vessels; launch them into outer spaces.

My mind knows they cannot keep me in the same place.

Brushstroke of cities on a canvas

The curled gold in the poet’s mouth

The momentum of the dancers

The harmonious chord of life

They cannot keep our minds in the same place.

We are astronauts

Exploring the galaxies that lies within our souls

It is with science that we learn to control

 Mediate life to our advantage

But some days we forget its beauty

And forgot how to just be

Because everything inspires

We are explorers trying to find out who we really are

 

 II.

Two hands, two feet, two ears, two eyes, two sides of the brain, two lungs and for some of us, two wings

All things essential come in pairs

But why don’t we have two hearts?

We might have lost it amongst the dust when we took our first breath out of the womb

Always trying to find that missing piece

So with these Two hands, two feet, two ears, two eyes, two sides of the brain, two lungs and two wings we create magnets to center ourselves in the middle

Hoping to find our other half that might be scattered amongst everyone here

Einstein’s theory, we never die just transfer energy.

Do you feel me?

Learn to experiment with your surroundings

Spray paint clouds in the blue sky

Let the residue splash like raindrops, we’re already toxic anyway

We are painters leaving our imprints behind hoping they’ll find a piece of them in us

 

III.

We are musicians

Treble, alto and soprano

The bitter sweet melody that hums in our throats

Life tides rides waves of the ocean like notes on a falsetto run.

Up and down and up and down and up and down again

A manic depressive or a bipolar kid off the pills

No; keep me away from the the pills

I am a wolf, a crescendo in my howl

Can you feel?

It’s the passion trembling through our fingertips

The harmonies we create from the people telling us no; and voices in our heads telling us yes create the maybes that keeps us sane

At the end of the day what is “normal”

We, artists, are humans.

Animals in the most insane art form. 

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