Always creating for the sake of creation.
Reality bends to accommodate the totality of new imagination generated.
That might be the source of all the dark energy!
Art (an acrostic poem)
Tag Archives: art
Lottery (an acrostic poem)
Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance
Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative
The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart
Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted
Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke
Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint
Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life
Splat (an acrostic poem)
Shooting ideas onto the whiteboard
Plastering it with colorful words and diagrams
Leaving a chaotic schematic of creativity
And yet this work of art is unfinished
That’s why it is a blessing when it is erased, left waiting for the next time
Cinema (an acrostic poem)
Composing art through words and images
Inspiring imagination and thought through deep story telling
Nobody is falling asleep in the dark, too much emotion and adrenaline
Everyone is mesmerized by what is happening on the big screen
Many will watch it again at home, but that collective theater experience is special
Allowing for a brief moment a community zeitgeist that can be transformative
Dance (an acrostic poem)
Deep bass notes punctuated the melody
Announcing it was time to get up
Nascent instincts awaken and bodies begins to move
Creating a kinetic ephemeral work of art
Even though some of the pieces need some tweaking
Chef (an acrostic poem)
Cuisine so fine that that it demanded to be taken out for a dinner date
He showered her with flavors that were tart, sweet, salty, and spicy
Everything balanced to a perfection, a true masterpiece of culinary art
Food may be temporally empheneral, but the memories of that meal will be eternal
Gallery (an acrostic poem)
Gazing on the works of art
All scattered around the floor and walls
Left Marcus speechless
Long ago he wanted to be an artist
Every moment of every day he was constantly drawing
Realizing eventually that making a living at creating art was not in the cards
Yet stealing it….
Image: media.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/thumbnails/uploads/venue-photos/19C_australian.jpg.510x286_q85_crop.jpg
Cast (an acrostic poem)
Concrete concepts about ethereal energies
Allowed Marcus to start to subtle shades of unseeable colors
So he sent his will into the void to draw a picture of what he wanted
The art bloomed into reality. It was magical
Image: ak4.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/24419024/thumb/8.jpg
Heart (an acrostic poem)
His tattoo had a story, but he wouldn’t tell anyone
Every day he wore shorts someone would ask him about it
And he would say it was better than the alternative
Refusing to say why that was the case
That the coronary was now art
The Art of Words (a 200 word story)
** the following story might be disturbing for those sensitive to domestic abuse**
The scars didn’t show. He made sure of that, yet they were a work of art. It was hard to cut with such precision, but he was a master of his craft. He was proud of his handiwork, even if he was the only one to view it.
She bore the scars and wondered why he did this to her. She also wondered why she put up with it, but she couldn’t make herself leave. Every time she thought about it, his voice would pop into her head. It was just words after all, and he was right. Those words didn’t really cut her and make her bleed, yet she hemorrhaged out her hope long ago, and she didn’t have much self-esteem left in her deflated, marred ego. Every night she prayed for everything to end, but her prayers were never answered.
He watched her cry herself to sleep. Sometimes he would feel guilty about what he did. Other artists maimed themselves for their art. He knew he lost pieces of his soul for his creation, but it was a sacrifice that must be done. He was so grateful for his canvas.
He slipped beside her and held her tight.
Never Short On Words 