Intro & Short Blog :"The Power of Isolation"

"The Cold Brain From Europe to U.S." mixed media, 20"x24" ,2006

INTRO

This blog will not only be about my experience as an artist but also my thoughts on life in general as well as poems and short stories. Not to mention followers of my work will be able to get to know me a little better as I consider this blog an public journal of sorts for the world to look at.Others that are not familiar with my work will still be able to engage me in discussions,leave me comments,suggestions, and critiques.The following blog "The Power of Isolation" is really just my thoughts on what artists go through,as being an artist is misunderstood by many as well as threatening to others. Without artists our world would be a lot less colorful.

"The Power of Isolation"

Tonight I sat in my bedroom with some music playing but alone.Some people fear being alone they have to have something/someone around at all times.When they don't have this a kaleidescope of feeling bleed through the pores and a stench fills their space.It can scare them or even leave them gasping with a self induced panic attack.My advice push past this if you get this way get to the core of yourself you can solve a lot if you just let it be for what it is.
As myself and I sat there on my bed legs crossed cigarette fuming,looking around,blinking slowly taking all of the occurances of the past week in.All the people,all the emotions from anger,to elation.a level of happiness was reached,my breath became deep,controlled,my muscles let go of their tension.I'm not being lambasted with what should be aspired to,attained.Myself,my ether,my spirit came back to my body.A smile curled its way to my lips teeth were bared,a soft blink of the eyes of contentment,one final exhale of relief.Eyes now shut and the breathing of sleep set in as my mind lucidly attained dreaming images of solace,of bliss.I'm free once again the spell of the moment has released its cruel grip of unimaginable force.Now my body lies dormant floating in the mother like grace of sleep.I could float away from it all as the subconscious plays out surreal imagery in my dreams.If only the immersion of trivial avarice were not ot yet again afflict me in waking life not a need or want ever again.The battlefield only lies an eyelid away awaiting for its new recruits.Venturing on to this Warfield will I choose the hand of love for my brethren or the hand of perpetuating hate what bullets will I use tomorrow?How far do i go until I retreat to this infirmary of isolation and after i come from this will I again be a soldier of hate or of love?What about yourself what is really in our nature ask yourself?Vague abstract I know but it all ties together and this scenario is equated/filtered through the sole of an artist who is indeed a soldier of love for our fellow man.