The Artist
An artist,..me?… Once,.. I express(ed) myself through poems, paintings, photographs, body, designs, you name it. I had all the symptoms of an artist; i detested the thought that there was only one way to do things, to say things, to think, to dress. I mumbled in unspoken languages, millions of made up words, always distracted by unpredictable theories.
Hurry! You need to read Kant, Kierkegaard, Fei-Zi, Shakespeare,Hegel and Hobbes. Words,stupid words, miles of papers describing my every confusion, describing my innerself, intensity; that’s what we want; We are ‘the generation of blabla-ism’. I heard a song about a misunderstood poet, save the world, peace, love and fonytales, unique?
………You have to die to be remembered………..
Brushes, lenses and paint covering my hands and face. Eyes intense and desperate,.. is this confusing enough? Do you feel provoked yet?,… exclamation mark!
ARRGH!!,. too loud? too sudden? too blunt? I care not, i’m an artist.. I do it not for your love in return,…
The truth must be told, must be painted, and indeed be heard. The truth shall set you free,…too many full stops? Think.
L.O.V.E? stupid nauseating four letter word, rhymes with, dove, above, stove and gloves.Put it in the second line and add a melody to it and voila! You too are an artist my love!
Rules?
Red: for passion,
Blue: for humbleness, forgiveness, usually seen on Mary.
Yellow: we do not like yellow, too happy, too normal.
Green:,hmmm greed and jealousy,…
Brown; for the peasant and all the robes of the fifteen century monks.
Read between the lines, what would Yeats say about this? The paint stained art student from Ireland. Blurisme.
And now, for the ending, I await for my fat lady to start singing,… or maybe I will just end it suddenly, leaving you in need of more, as if I care, I am an artist.Your rules do not apply. This is my world. And before I forget; peace, love and harmony; This is OUR world!
And I leave you..
Frustrated enough? annoyed? maybe confused? waste of time? provoked? Oh my! Should one care.
M.