Some say art is made with hands; With passing days one understands Sometimes it's made with tools at hand. Art is a loving ampersand....
Which joins one and one to one and one In a growing, ongoing gallery. Sometimes a struggle, sometimes fun, Sometimes it pays without a salary.
Some say art is this or that And so much more, from where I've sat. I say art is someone up at bat To score a win with the caveat...
That life is, yes, about more than art, Though perhaps among the greatest part, For art makes life more sufferable When with events one's had a bellyful.
Art is therefore process, yet things, For process generates awakenings To the this and the that and the more we find When passing thoughts are intertwined.
Grateful for art and its sustenance, For even when still, it remains a dance. Grateful for art, as passing days pass, And we watch our sand in its hourglass.
Some say art is made with hands;
ReplyDeleteWith passing days one understands
Sometimes it's made with tools at hand.
Art is a loving ampersand....
Which joins one and one to one and one
In a growing, ongoing gallery.
Sometimes a struggle, sometimes fun,
Sometimes it pays without a salary.
Some say art is this or that
And so much more, from where I've sat.
I say art is someone up at bat
To score a win with the caveat...
That life is, yes, about more than art,
Though perhaps among the greatest part,
For art makes life more sufferable
When with events one's had a bellyful.
Art is therefore process, yet things,
For process generates awakenings
To the this and the that and the more we find
When passing thoughts are intertwined.
Grateful for art and its sustenance,
For even when still, it remains a dance.
Grateful for art, as passing days pass,
And we watch our sand in its hourglass.