Art-As-Therapy Experience

We evade many things in our lives. We postpone,decline,procrastinate,diminish and deny but music will be no man’s mistress. We must eventually answer the call!

We all live according to the dictates of our own hearts. We are instinctively driven by an artistic impetus of which no one can define or dictate. We must remain true to the innate ‘raw talent’ calling of our souls.

We are the walking embodiments of the sacred omniscient sexual creative force! Restriction cripples hallowed artistic expression. Our divine soul is ruthless in her appetite for earth bound experience. She accepts no facsimile or imitation. We are singularly unique in our artistic expression. We are expected and commissioned to be authentic. She will not be mocked or deceived!

Never trust your eyes to reveal the truth! Your eyes betray you all the time. You must look with your ears and listen with your eyes.Layers upon layers of pretense cover the essence when not exposed to the sun of experience. Live fully without a leaching need to impress.

IF it matters to you, then, IT matters. Humans live to express and with that unique expression a connection is made. By/through that divine connection a message is conveyed; not because you intend it but because you are it. What you are flows out and into another without intentional effort. Allow that which you try to conceal to be immersed in all that is without definition or viable reward. The compensation is buried in the artistic act, alone.

Art is the sacred sexual primal instinct (impetus) in man. We are all born creators. We live to create. We are governed by what our eye is attracted to. Every gesture, eye movement, hand motion, gait of our walk, and tone in our voices and nuances in our speech patterns display the overt artist we imbue. We cannot hide that which we frame. Our words exalt and condemn us. The pen and brush and chisel and camera reveal what we won’t say. Try as we might, we disrobe ourselves through our artistic creations.

No matter how brightly we shine, we must inevitably bow to the convergence of that which we can never fully understand or truly appreciate. It makes no difference how we pay homage to the inexpressible divine; we fall short in our attempts to show designated sublime gratitude for our existence. The best we can do is to authentically bring forth the essence of who we are {without hesitation, explanation, excuse, recourse, apology, or defense}, in honorable unknowable celebratory sacred recompense!

Cease with the replaying of stale re-run memories! No need to channel surf for nondescript scenes of regurgitated emotion. Disseminated Guilt lingers far long after the days of superficial cleansing/removal. We need to dispose of the undisputed heaviness of culminated stench once it begins to corrode the current mind’s interest and flowering affairs of the heart. All too often, we allow unnecessary residue of remorse to interfere and impose itself, needlessly. Habitual punitive self-lashings deprive fresh tender sprouts of attraction from germinating. Subconscious ‘blunders of the tongue’ mingle with words of otherwise intended new venue conversation . Remorse is as useless as a wet match. Regret is indeed the prayer of fools!