In the depths grows something wild. An impregnating of desire for creation. This impulse to create and give beauty to the world is insatiable because we have been designed to do so. Our mind, soul, and bodies are connected in a purposeful way. Our souls give vision, our minds give instructions, and our hands give life to creation.
Art cannot die out by virtue of capital gains. We must not allow our consumerism culture to define what is worthy of creation and what is not. Our highest act of rebellion is the hours spent inside our creative chamber, typing or painting or sculpting our souls.
Baring them naked for the world to see.
Because if the world lacks vulnerability, transparency, and art in its purest form, how will we know passion? How will we know purpose?
How much longer must we wait for the call to arms?
Rise, O slumbering being, for your heart has left your body. It resides in the art you’ve yet to create but is pulsing inside of you. Your truest self has been abandoned but can be retrieved with great difficulty.
You must effort to seize back your soul which is tightly clenched in the hands of the imposter. The enemy is cunning and knows which oration to use and knock you to your knees. You must stand again and again. The soul of humanity depends upon the courage you will muster to return to passion and purity.
So what are you waiting for? Place the blank canvas before you, pull out the white parcel, pluck the slab of clay for your hands to shape. You were created to create.
Now create, O Creation. Your Creator is waiting with joyful anticipation.