Blue Horse

Sometimes when my eyes are closed, a kaleidoscope consumes my vision.

Patterns. Shapes. Movement.

Sparking the trail of gasoline, that explodes the dynamic collision.

Othertimes when my eyes are closed, a darkness turns everything to black.

Solitude. Focus. Improvement.

The dust settles, calm returns, and within that I feel myself come back.

Few times when my eyes are closed, serenity is pierced by nothing but white.

Blinding. Hindering. Pollutant.

Supposedly illuminating, but how? there can be no concentration when all is too bright.

Forgive me, as funny as it may seem, but let me dwell with Marc’s Blue Horses and Van Gogh’s Starry night. For while the yellow hues and stars are present, it is the darker forces that make those works right.

2Pac once noted that for every dark night there is a brighter day. I once noted that without the dark night I could never appreciate a brighter day.

So, yes allow me my reds, my blues, my greens, browns, purples and greys.

Rage. Sadness. Loneliness.

Let me fight the demons, devils, ghosts, troubles and walk around a little crazed.

For when I emerge into the light, it is that very fight that bolsters the ascension.

Triumph. Strength. Ceremonious.

The war will be fought, not always won, but each battle graces my work with a deeper dimension.

Keep your white, glossy perfection, it’s not for me to see through roses-tinted glasses.

Vain. Mirage. Phoniness.

I’d sooner do a Vincent and chop off my ear, before filtering any circumstances.

Forgive me, as funny as it may seem, it is in the void that I find a brutal elegance, the truth of personal expression. For while I enjoy the highlights and embrace those moments of joy, the plague of being an empathetic creative, quite often co-exists with depression.

2Pac once noted that for every dark night there is a brighter day. I have noted that within the dark night, I can find my way to a brighter day.

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