Art Has a Mouth
As the Computronik Souls are landing … human people must speak up louder than ever. We have to distinguish ourselves … to a less and less discerning populace. Or else something very important (inside of us) goes instinct.
If we are nothing else (and we are much more) we are sub-creators, artists in the MasterCreator’s grand image. So our stories must themselves tell stories. I am a writer and a visual artist. We all are — if we muster the courage. Here are some examples from my recent inventive craft:
I titled this piece Kiss the Planes.
It brings with it the idea of a beautiful drunk. We are in love … in these times … with the idea of being fragile, passion-driven, worldsick will-puppets. We float wherever an idea or a sensual inkling might take us. We tall all or no responsibility for everything. We are gargantuan and erotic accidents … in our own mind … or in some dark thing else’s.
And yet we are haunted by being beautiful after all. One-time Innocents. Remembering what it was like to not feel so soul-less. Wishing it was possible to time-machine back.
