Flight

The horizon just keeps opening up. Never ending.

Sometimes I just feel limitless. It hurts to be stretched out so far. There are so few certainties. Can you be terrified and giddy with pleasure about the same thing at the same time? It is proving hard to break free of my cacoon. My wings are still limp yet. Can you see me soar? Watch how high I go. Can you see?

I have visions, whispers, colors in my head. Can you see? I can. Let me show you...

Definitions

Life: an agonizing mix of ecstasy and anguish.

Art: the result of life focused and funneled through an artist's hands.

Sometimes...

Sometimes, I want to live my whole life on a creative/emotional high point. Despite how chaotic my brain can be during these periods, I love them! I feel so alive. Everything holds a drop of inspiration. The possibility of poetry is everywhere. But if I only ever stay on a high, they'll become average to me. I have to starve a little to understand the feast of creative thought.

I have to be afraid before I realize the comfort of my Hero's arms.

Art: Good, Bad & Ugly

Art is about passion. Therefore, artists are passionate. There are so many different stereotypes of artists. One idea I've gotten a lot from my family and friends is how easy they think it is for me to create. They see my finished work and can't believe it. But I don't show them the hours of thought and struggle to get just the right lines or words out onto the paper.

To the outside world, we artists create because we love it. But we know better. We do love it but in some ways, we have to love it. When the inspiration comes, I don't really write/ draw because I want to. I do it because if I don't, the ideas will drive me literally crazy. To be an artist is to have voices in your head and if you don't get them out, they'll kill you.

And along with all that passion comes a lot of emotional ups and downs. Art is about highs and lows so guess what an artist's life gets to be like? I've noticed that the more creative I get, the more trigger happy my emotions are. I experience everything to the extreme and those extremes fuel my work. I'll admit, its hard. Lots of times, it is a total pain. It distrupts my life, school, my relationships. It makes everything just a bit harder.

But it is worth it. If I have to live the rest of my life with these crazy unpredictable extremes, I'll take them to have the creativity. The voices drive me insane but without them, I wouldn't be me. So I'll take it all: good, bad, and ugly.

Designed

Talked about Gastault in art class today, which is basically the psychology of how humans interpret visual information. Ever seen the pictures where if you focus on one spot, you see two human faces looking at each other and if you focus on another spot, you see a vase? That's Gastault.

Anyway, my teacher pointed out that a result of humans' visual perception is that basically every culture will interpret certain things the same. Examples are a smiley face or a frowney face. Almost every culture will respond positively and not feel threatened by a picture of a smiley face. He pointed out how cool that was that we all interpret those things the same.

He's right. It is cool. But it isn't coincidence. Humans respond to things like that because they were made with the same design. How can we all respond the same, even though we are separated by oceans and technology? Ever wondered how every culture has some sort of flood story? Maybe its because we didn't randomly evolve but were created with a design in mind. And if we were designed, then we might just have a purpose? And if we have a purpose, we probably need to find out what it is...

Genesis 1:27

Masterpieces

Life is a painting. Chaotic colors mangled, twisted, slicing across the canvas. My life is color and light. Light everywhere. Emotion. Beauty. Passion. Life. Creation of my own; imitations, mimics of the Ultimate Artist. It blossoms from my brain, sparks out from my fingers. Music: the voice of my piano. The nursemaid of my thoughts. Poetry. Translations of myself. Blended together. The world is singing. I listen.

Words

Write. write. write.
Will the words ever stop?
What if I can't write them down one day
What if I'm left
with mountains of words stuck in my throat
No way to let them out.
What if I end up alone
With just the words...

The words are beautiful.
Diamonds:
hot and bright in my chest
behind my eyes.
Sunlight that comes from inside

Words are terrible.
Razors. Fire.
The taste of vomit in my mouth.
They end wars
Break hearts.
Words like a knife still in the wound
Sticky and slick

Words.
So much power in such little things.
How much can be done with a word
Infinte scenarios. Trapped
Inside the right words.

The Word. Word into flesh
All the words in the universe
hung on a criminal's death.

God is. Words.