a play
made of poetry
an art experience
guided by the muses
turning the mirror back on
the artist himself
a connection
with a group
who might just make new york
worth staying
if
we’re staying
a play
made of poetry
an art experience
guided by the muses
turning the mirror back on
the artist himself
a connection
with a group
who might just make new york
worth staying
if
we’re staying
i think
i was enamored
in the myth of celebrity
that i wanted the concept of me
as an artist
more than i wanted
to make the art
i could make
and now that i’ve turned my whole perspective upside down
and realized that celebrity might be a little [lot] too much for me
i’m so lost in terms of what kind of art i’d want to make
but the art still flows through my blood
and makes a home in my bones,
but do i treat celebrity like a goal
or a disease i’m to avoid?
or
[more likely than not]
do i try to concentrate on my art
and turn my head away from all celebrity
good
and bad
and just live in the art
that’s in my head/heart/body/soul/me
have you ever seen art
that makes you want to
be
a better artist?
that makes you want to
pry yourself open
and create the most honest art you can?
that makes you want to
be vulnerable
be truthful
be fully yourself
through your own art?
and
even though you don’t know necessarily how
you do know
it’s possible
because of someone else’s
great, honest, vulnerable, truthful
art
?
i feel my ability
to create
has been sucked dry
by a cabinet that has yet
to even take power
and i don’t want to let it
the universe deserves art
art is what makes life worth living
it doesn’t even have to be spectacular, world-paradigm-shifting/
perspective-altering/makes-you-see-new-colors-on-earth
great
art
it just needs to be art
because every human is creative
and every human deserves to look at something
and feel —
even if that feeling is
‘i want to do that’
for inspiration
or for competition
or for proving something —
art takes humanity,
splits it into a thousand pieces,
and connects every piece of us
back with each other
and even if we only ever see two or three pieces
of ourselves
connect with others in our lifetime,
those pieces continue on:
in your stories to the friends you make later,
in one audience member’s recollection,
in your peers’ inspiration
and on to making their own creations
we all continue to live through our art
because humanity
is connection
and connection
is art
and art
is humanity
and all reversed and back again
and we cannot survive
as a species
without our art, our connection, and our humanity
so please, as defeated as you feel, artists, keep art-ing
i will
i just need to stream these feels into my art
first
and then maybe this poem will reside in the heart of someone else
who will help someone else
continue on
and
on
and
on
it
goes
i just want to hide in the middle of the woods
and make physical art somehow
[really don’t know how, could be painting
could be fiber-art-ing
could be making tiny houses
for my fairy kin to live in]
and forget that the rest of the world exists
but i don’t think i ever could forget
truly
i don’t think i ever could
creating art is pretty rad
and i think i can do this
for a while
longer
i wish
i wish
i wish
i didn’t make myself cringe
with every thought or written word or
every kind of close to rhyme
i just want to create art
that doesn’t care about being art
[that is the purest kind]
it is kind of wild to me
that art in and of itself
is simply an invitation to
s t r e t c h
any truth we may want to share or inhabit
[any pureness for accuracy
may or may not be
entertaining/
good art anyway
so why not craft reality
to your individual
liking?]
i try to create art with words
but sometimes i need to create art
with art
and my abilities there
do not size up
and i frustrate-quit
over
and over
and over again
but what if
i
kept going?
when words are your art form
and you have trauma that takes away
the memory centers for language retention
what does that mean for
everything?