As written in my Facebook page, Wednesday, 10:12 am.
"May life bid that I leave each space I enter be it corner space, room space, the heart space of a family, friend or stranger I encounter, even the gap between spaces, a little more beautiful, because I was in it. -- I am surrounded by beauty. I see beauty everyday. I create beauty everyday. Deeply, my life is my art."
Boldly it was written. Meant to bolster my inner self to fixate on nothing but devoted value, I closed my eyes and inhaled one affirming breath. Every pore rejoiced in the conviction. And to this very click on my laptop, it remains the prayer
Moments cruise by and NOT everything I do aligns itself to the beauty I speak of. -- Maddening.-- Aftermath of faults weigh me in. A twitch of my mouth, a shake of my head betrays the insolence of my actions. Don't I even possess the prudence to keep back a sarcastic remark when irked? This and other pebble stone grievousness monkey in my mind.
|"La Demoiselle de Magasin"|
Pages in hurried counsel sweep through my frame: Art writings and biographies pass by my monitor, inundating me with elegant lessons about the living of those who seemed to have mastered life. Phantoms of genius unfurling as mists in my mind clamor;
"No, no, realize, beauty is a juxtaposition - chaos and calm, delight and despair, confusion and order!Reality is pretty."That my life and everything I throw helter - skelter into the canvass of it - the light and dark is a masterpiece that will not be ignored - the covered shadows giving depth to hallow points in order to focus the bright. Welcome to your life, they say. It is what it is and - it is beautiful. I believe so.
The life long learner sat across a teacher again.
Because, she called on beauty, it answered her plea.
My life, truly, is my art.
My Poetry Page: