Art is.

[eph_ae]

This is the bare bones of my senior project, sort of a narrative poem statement thing that will go along with a film.

Art is grief-stricken
heartbroken
sobbing so hard your eyes are going to
fall out
it HURTS
art hurts
and knows all pain
all suffering, all despair
Art is not regretful or ashamed
is it steadfast, stony-faced
unyielding
art is strong
like a mother

art is time
and art is running out of time

Art is startling.

Art is spontaneous.

art is a struggle
and it is desperate
art cuts you in two and laps
up the life blood until you are
solely a slave to its will.
art is biased
art is unforgiving of your mistakes
art is judgmental
and often cruel
art is spiteful
art is more jealous than you'll
ever be of your ex's new girlfriend,
of your best friend's new car, of your
mother's new husband, of your brother's
new toy
art swallows you alive and
lets you swim the acid rivers
of a celestial waterway.
And then you take the plunge
down into that waterfall
of merciful conclusion.
The pool bubbles, hisses, steams
mists over the jungle beyond
and then you're floating, weightless,
ragged, waterlogged
starshined and starry-eyed
and shadowscaped
and dreamdrenched
back to the beginning
of a new canvas
a new frame
a new word
a new pain in your muscles
as you leap further
as you sing louder
and scream at the top of
you lungs
in your mind
and the note rings
true
and a new sky and a new
sun and a new day
breaks over the horizon.
You can hold it in a paint brush
or a pose or a flute
let it linger in your eyes
on the page
on the stage
art is rebirth and art is death
but first and foremost

life is art