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Artists Who Stare

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  Artists who Stare into their Creative Self Vignette There is a reckoning in the soul of every artist. It begins as a tremor, a flicker of light, almost imperceptible, yet relentless in hunger. That precise moment when the artist is alone, silhouetted against the radiance of an internal inferno and stares unflinchingly into their creative self. They dwell in the space between inspiration and doubt, bathed in the glow of possibilities and tormented by the fear of mediocrity. To exceed the ordinary, the artist knows, is both a blessing and a curse. Each touch, each word, each act of creation becomes a paradox: an offering to eternity but rooted in the fleeting frailty of the present. What if they fail? What if the light within, so achingly bright, burns them to ash rather than illuminating their path? The act of creation is no longer a choice; it has become a necessity. There is no turning back. Like a lone figure before the furnace of their own making, the artist surrenders to the ...

Moon over Desert


Hole in the Wall: Moon over Desert

Within solitude, there is self-beauty to be discovered.
Engage silence and dismiss the want to share.
And dismiss the necessity to be liked.
And love the abstract of your abyss.
Be satisfied by the soiling and scratching of time.
Whilst crawling and scampering throughout.
The same mistakes.
The same divisions.
The same crisis.

When secrets have long passed their importance.
And the desert sea shimmers under full moon.
Recognise that glorious intent is cyclical.
Without thought and without hoopla grasp this intent.
Without the need.
Without the seeing.

What is fully understood is quickly dismissed.
Your story has the greater impact.
Your synthesis of fact diminishes being.

Nothing will hurt you in your solitude.
Within cyclic patterns enable the time to feel your situation.
What is in determinism.

As an insect in forrige.
And thankful for the ambient light.
The casting your domain is difficult to define.
Let in the universe.
The stars, the planets, the reflected matter.
Shimmer and reflect your unspoken meaning.
Rejoice your memories, your shadows, loss and sense of being.
Move in cycles rather than from left to right, and back and forward.
Rather than in linear action.







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