An old poem about art. I can’t remember much about it; a child asked me “what is art?” and I came up with a non-answer in the form of a title and poem.
As We Peel Back The Layers Of The Artist’s Anticipated Level Of Engagement, We Find Numerous Sources Of Radical, Inclusionary, Destructive Creation Visions Reconstructed In Such A Manner That One Would Have To Lack All Sensation In Order To Dehumanize Such An Authentic Rendition Of Our Given Subjective Realities
me about art.
comes from the heart.
july 19th 2012