Art is the mission of the spirit.
It is nothing less than the will to connect at all possible costs, even
through the white noise of a world with their heads down in distraction.
It is the desire to heal through the impossible, to scream with a
purpose, and to move ourselves to higher ground.
Art is both an angry fist and a compassionate hug.
It is the natural response to the questions that the soul asks us to
answer.
Art is an act of treason against our own safety, for it exposes us to
any who might have a blade sharp enough to run us right through.
It is an honorable act that is meant to say something that matters.
Art is a "fuck you" and a "thank you" both in the
same breath.
It is the words "I love you" and the exact opposite intent.
It is the moment you speak too soon, and not soon enough.
Art is the attempt to escape this moment without losing it.
The desire to create a map that Time The Thief cannot read, and cannot
destroy with such ease.
It is the desire to leave behind fragments of ourselves and the proof
that we in fact lived with some purpose, with some depth, and with some reason
at all.
Art belongs to no one and to everyone all at once.
It is the only truly free thing left in this world, and when done right
it can cost the most.
Art is the proof that both God and the Devil and all other deities can
somehow exist and not at all.
It is a gentle lover and an enemy with a killer’s motives.
It can be the most honest lie you ever tell.
It can be a point without a purpose.
An action without a response.
It can be nothing more than an empty cup with so much possibility of
what to fill it with.
Art is my response to this life.
It is the tearing down of my defences to connect with you, if only for a
moment.
The only question left is; will
you do the same for me?
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