Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Just this time, Then once more, Then perhaps a last time –– then I think it will be over. (triptych)

Manifest, Oh?

Serious hard-jawed, high brow art –– bald artists in black berets (black-rimmed glasses). Don’t believe it. Create only for yourself (see: myself) from with-in. No rules, no precedent, no words to define that blissful ignorance. Remove the intellect –– naked, raw, spontaneous, non-thinking (ideally). Something eternal ‘bout that canvas –– something primal ‘bout putting paint on that ole burlap-y. I’ll never do it better than nature herself –– can only make it my own so it exists independently in and of itself. Make ‘em poems. At least that’s the way I feel to-day –– may change to-morrow –– and indeed it may, it may.