Living vertically,
Dying horizontally,
Lost to the curving in between.
*
Living in the whites,
Dying in the blacks,
Lost to the greying in between.
*
Living behind the lines of open windows,
Dying behind the angles of closed doors,
Lost to the adventuring in between.
*
Living as an assembly line of black and white,
Boxed within the reflections of windows and doors,
Dying…Dying within the lines of rules and boundaries.
*
What are we, but lost?
Lost…
So lost…
Alas…Lost to the joys of the colouring in between.
***
#WDYS
#Whatdoyousee
#Keepitalive
Behind the scenes:
This picture is so vivid and wildly beautiful!
It took me back to my first stop of a long journey to becoming an artist.
To those first few art classes where I was asked to simply draw lines. Filling pages with vertical lines, then horizontal, moving on to curves. While those classes began with curiosity, it soon became mind numbingly boring to me since I hate being confined. In just about everything.
If there are rules, I question them. I didn’t understand working within little boxes. Asked to draw lines and curves in those tiny boxes, filling them to the brim like automatons. Where’s the art? Was patience being taught or were we being deadened to liveliness?
I tired to work with the rules, then found my way out by edging to the peripheries of them by drawing abstract geometric shapes, somehow relating them to each other, making connections between them and building conversations with each other interchanging the lines and curves freely.
My art flowed like a river within the boundaries set, but it flowed freely because I permitted myself to question the norm and figure a way out to work within it and yet without it. I wasn’t following the rules per se but I wasn’t breaking them either. I was walking in the in betweens on the ridge of mountains and there is a dangerous freedom to that…living on the edge is exhilarating indeed.
This image brought back those memories hidden in a room of my memory palace I don’t visit these days. It made me relive those times of carefree abandon that we all have shared sometime in our lives when we breathed in smoke but breathed out the pure bliss of living in the in betweens of our white and black existence.
The curves, the greys and the adventures made themselves available to us because we were in the driver’s seat navigating life as we wished.
Somehow most of us have numbed out…tapped out of that dimension within us. We live like zombies. Lost to the colour life presents us with every single day. Breathing and existing like sheep on an assembly line. To what, but a death before death actually takes us home?
Sad. But true. This poem is a gentle reminder to dig deep and find what we lost. To time and age…running a lonely race we know we will never win.
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