Let this be my epitaph
Let this be my epitaph
I make art; I go to art for its aesthetic alone
and find vacation from play and work and giving
that nourishes all three
(2)
Arts gonna art
I play for the sake of playing (and all my troubles stay away)
I work for the sake of working (and lose myself in its hours)
I give for the sake of giving, ego–free, (and I gain more than my mind can comprehend)
I thought that if these phrases made sense I would know WHAT I had to write about art for arts sake. They did make sense once I added a phrase clarifying the result (in the parenthesis above). Therefore, my 4th line, quoted in Part (1) above, addressed the same question about art and simultaneously compared and redefined it. What remained was to describe the art/vacation, and that came out as a mash-up of poetry I have written, spirit-filled yes, no, and thank you. Is it also a paradox to say that "Yes, no, and thank you" are the only three answers I have ever received to my prayers? It feels to me that the poems I--we--write are questions or answers to our moments in a
mash-up of “what if” with“is” and “was” that at besttouches soul and opens spirit