Art is an ugly abstraction
of a life beautiful and spontaneous;
a messy marvel comic genius
in which the only superhero
is the one you become
once you’ve had yourself torn down to build up.

Once you’ve abdicated innocence
in the excess
and chosen a focused aim to reclaim it.

Art is this mumbled mouthed medium
where reality stands still
for but a moment
and beckons you to desire
to change it.

Wane not for new brushes
nor a cleaner canvas,
want for nothing more
than what your hands
can now behold
in this imperfect present.

Make your presence known
now and forever.

Create beauty
in the shifting sands
of a timeline fleeting
because nothing lasts.

Not even the memory
of art.
Merely its faint impact
passing down through
time.

Living on the lips..hands..fingers
of this living lineage
of we who continue
to create.