Another Day in Paradise

Presidential Inaugeration Day.

Today we celebrate, not because we want to but because we can. Who cares what "we did"' when we're still doing it, This is society on the brink. This is whay we are doing, and this is how we are making it happen. Live today, die tomorrow.
It really matters little; nonetheless, as we are truly celebrating a new paradigm, overall. Our age is not only defined by information and machines, but also by radical changes in perception. Our new society is unlike we've seen before. Our new ways of thinking is devouring previous misconceptions of tradition and ignorance. Our world is changing rapidly.
It is not for me to decipher or reconcile these traits. We are happy today, who cares, really?
truly.
Every thing now is manifest.

Late October

I love this time of year. Cool enough for a jacket, but not too cold. The beautiful foliage decaying. The mystery of Halloween. Everything is happening now.

Other news

I'm eating some bland soup out of a can. Maybe that's a metaphor for me, this week. At least I'm eating right:? Maybe it's about political jargon and the media. Maybe it's about society, and the world I see walking down the street. In any case, I got to change my diet or something because this crap is barely edible, but I'm hungry enough not to care too much right now.
In other news, geez, I sure am thirsty? I will leave that one open to interpretation.

A New Season to Know

The rain falls cleansing the filth and misery from the streets. A new scent fills the air invigorating our senses, enlivening our hearts. The Light shines through the murk and the mire, promising to fulfill our desire. The machines rest. We can open our tarnished hearts to bigger and better collaborators of love. We can bring in the grace and goodness now that has heretofore eluded us on our blind journey to the nether regions and back. Amazingly we are still in one piece, albeit, a little bruised and battered. That old song comes on the radio, gently reminding us of the freshness and folly of our youths. A new feeling comes over us, healing us from our past. Now, the changes can begin. Consider yourself anointed, for the initation.
Inviting you to look deep inside a place you have forgotten, but remember you know.

A new day for you

Hallelujah!
Visions, dreams, movement of light and shadow. A calling from high above, or tremors in the spirit world? Too much coffee or imagination running wild? It really matters little in the face of the downtrodden. Gotta get up, get it together, stop shaking a cup, asking for hand outs. I believe in you. Get to work, and hope you get lucky. But please no more crying, moaning, and superficial judgments- give it up.

I love art.

Okay, now that the last couple weeks have suddenly come to a grinding halt after a whirlwind of artshows and festivals, I can relax and reflect. The artists' community in Chicago is vast and diverse, and with fairs like art chicago, international in scope. Sometimes, I wish I could have a little more impact or connectivity with my work, but finding an audience can be a little tricky with so many artists vying for support and trying to be heard. I simply continue to move forward. I don't have much time for kiss- ass wanna-be's or penny-anty politics, but I do have a lot of interest in quality, meaningful art from the gut, which, lately, I've seen quite a bit of, amazingly. I've written before about my pessimisstic view of the local scene, and I must say, there is a healthy element of growth and courage being presented by some of my peers.
Often, in our materialistic, market-driven society, it's easy to see art as a commodity or success equals sales. But that is not true in the poetic nature of art. There is an aura which cannot be suppressed to great art, even if it doesn't sell. Sometimes, not selling can even be good for some artists, keeping them hungry, testing their fortitude and integrity. True artists do not succumb to the illusion of market-value, and forfeit their honest position, for a buck. There are those who do, and I think it's pretty transparent, to see through their shallow skin and lack of spine. Easily forgettable crap from a lowlife scumball-congrats- you shit artist, you've successfully demeaned yourself, and endangered the entire sanctity of art for your preciously deformed ego, which aches from your own self-abuse.
I love art.
Congtulations to the artists who wage war with their art, and are not undermining their own creativity, passion, and integrity.