art

Color
Far ago in a land of paint, I stumbled on a faucet that released me.
Out squirted a stream of color more vivid than I can remember.
Flowing over a canvas land, I swooped and fell, feeling the energy released.

I floundered and explored the wonderment of spaces unfilled.
I discovered rage and pain next to joy and laughter,
dichotomies in collusion, out to wrest the illusions from my mind.
It flowed and developed like words spoken so true,
that it hurt and brought forth tears.

Life's complex palette
is what I release from the depths of my soul.

Stretched
Stretched beyond measure, right through the center of gravity.
Melded, moulded, bent, curved, shaped.
Made to be thin as a wire and hung from the rafters,
that canvas suspended like a life in limbo.
Unable to move of its own free will, yet moved by the synapses
of the brain on the shoulders of the viewer.

Analysed and criticized, then verified or vilified.
The anguish is settled once we've wrought a dialogue from the circle of seers,
good bad or indifferent.
Yet released from a true center of creation, to be made visible and vulnerable,
it does speak once stretched out before us.
Quiet the mind and heart to hear it.

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