What is forced on me is not me.
November 09, 2024
Morning in the back of the studio. A new painting underway.
Here is a line of poetry that, for me, ranks with the finest ever created: "gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy."
How perfectly it rolls off the tongue. Easy to remember, and say over and over. Even many years after the first reading. From one of Shakespeare's sonnets. But so alive today. At this very moment.
A line that reveals the path of artists. They pour the precious gold of eternal values into the fleeting life of humanity. Giving importance to thin, colorless days of laboring men and women.
You need art more than art needs you. Art shines through your passing existence whether you know it or not. Just like sunbeams through flowing water.