Art is everywhere. There is beauty in it all. The sculptors who use their hands with clay to express their art. The musicians who use their instruments to sing songs for them. The actors who utilize the one instrument God gave to everyone: their bodies. And me? I feel at home on the graffiti stairs. There are so many stories to tell, so many colors and things to look at. I want to feel at peace in that room, to sit at the top of the stairs overlooking everything. This place is my place. My art is here. My instrument; my stories, molded and crafted to be parables for the living. To help them learn and to entertain. Do I feel guilty that I am not constantly working on my art? No. I work on it as I can and as the muse tells me to do so. When I feel it, when I need it the most it's there. For me to access all I need is a pen and paper.
I am not like these actors. I can but prefer not to open up to the world. What have these people done to deserve to get to know the real me? Or even the me I project to the world? It's selfish locking myself down into a box projected by the zodiac sign I lie under. I don't have to listen. I could block it out like my Catholic roots proclaim. Be the person that God wants me to be not the projection of an ideal someone came up with. The safety vessel helps. Gives an explanation. I guess I could feel like limitation but I don't have to, I can do whatever I want. Be free. Be me. Artfully on display.
No comments:
Post a Comment