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Testing One Two

How’s this for candid. I have come to loathe writing on this blog because of the smorgasbord of individuals from all areas of my life who have accessibility to it. Is that horrible to say? I hate to offend further, but I do not care? No. That’s not a question. My polite nature is just inclined to pose it as such, but it really is just a disguised declaration draped in quippy doubt.  It’s true. It’s not meant to offend, more to inform. It’s meant to be broadcast because I’d rather not hole up my writing on an anonymous, remote Tumblr blog where such placed words are sentenced to starve, shrivel, and deviate to dust in utter solitary abandonment. Further, I’d prefer words and ideas be chewed up, ground down, digested, spit out, or declined. If no one even opens the fridge? That’s just sad. What a dejected, rotten waste of a rusted crumblin fridge, preserving the muted  muffle of nothin, buried under busted boxes and layers of recyclable bunk. Unread and dead.

Art is an interactive exchange. A friend reminded me recently that there are no rules in art except those restrictions we impose on ourselves. Thank you (again). Thank God. Scores of words race through my head as I lay myself down to sleep at night. The fine loose line of rhyme and sound and feeling streaming so lyrically, so fine, it can make me cry. Yeah, fine. Completely over the top. It’s supposed to be, see? I like it that way.  Completely true.  I’m not such an emotional person, or maybe I lean that way. It doesn’t matter.

This is what I think does

* It matters that you align yourself and your actions with your values. * It matters that you have values to align yourself and your actions with. * Integrity matters. * It matters that you seek truth and live honestly. *It matters that you care, show compassion and empathy to those to whom you have been fortunate enough to have crossed paths with in this lifetime. Roughly 7 billion people on the planet… and only a few hundred, maybe thousand, that you actual spend moments and time talking to, passing, looking, loving, despising, laughing with, learning from? I’d grant that special. * It matters that you are conscious of how your actions impact others.  *It matters that you are consciously aware how others’ actions impact you. *Thoughts and intentions matter

Shoot. Everything matters to somebody somewhere somehow. What do I know.  I just go with the gut and try my dandiest to sponge it up and learn from mistakes. Isn’t that the logical route? There’s no right, one way. That’s where it gets dangerous.  It’s all relative and subjective to experience, time, and place. Against popular belief, there’s no score card in life, yielding points for triumphs and deducting for ugly dark botches… One point for the young man with the degree. Clap clap Grant two points for the 1.2 mil house in (insert local prestigious hood with exorbitantly high property taxes). Deduct two for divorce. Waa Waa Three points for the promotion.  Ahhh Double bonus points for the gorgeous kids in the khaki shorts. Crowd goes wild! Subtract for inactive couch melting lethargy, two for taboo smoking, another for no good unhealthy eating habits. Booo Award a point for family dog. Aww. Bonus points if said dog accompanies player on morning jog documented through social media network. Whoomp There it is.

No scorecard.  There’s no right way, but one of the most basic aspects we do have control over is the authenticity of the projection of ourselves out into the world. That can be a crap shoot. But still, we do have a responsibility to try. Don’t we? I think

Art is an interactive exchange.  Alive breathing and brewing in the subtly of our consciousness’.  It needs to stretch and rebound, dance and dip a bit. Start a slow burn and begin to churn. Spoken through lips, pass eyes, intertwine with minds.

Needs breath to propel the flare and ignite. We just need light the match, and not be afraid of the burn.

 

Categories: Uncategorized

brighidk28

3 replies

  1. Socked me good with this, “I’d prefer words and ideas be chewed up, ground down, digested, spit out, or declined. If no one even opens the fridge? That’s just sad. What a dejected, rotten waste of a rusted crumblin fridge, preserving the muted muffle of nothin, buried under busted boxes and layers of recyclable bunk. Unread and dead.” BAM POW WOW! Yes, my friend. You’ve got it. Funny thing, I think we censor within reason because of our delicate profession but truly we need to challenge ourselves in whatever creative endeavors we undertake or the words will stop flowing. This is a quiet PSA with loud words screaming this is me, FTP 🙂

  2. You already know that I am in awe of your writing…..but what is even more amazing is knowing that it represents the person that you are……No fake or phony here…….only the real deal!! I guess what I am really trying to say is that I’m that our paths have crossed. I value the person you are, and am honored to be among your friends.

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