Image: “Island of Life,” Freydoon Rassouli
Art is the delicious anarchy we should surrender ourselves to,
and to whomever
it wants to take us.
We should do this without being
with ideas of
whether it will be
understood by a society,
infected with the disease of consumerism
or whether or not society will feed love back to you,
in return for what you want
to give them.
All judgments of your efforts are useless hindrances,
which block the aisle
down which our ever-awakening spirit
wants to run,
with great abandon,
embrace our being.
We owe it to ourselves
to be sublimely deviant and to be creatively inventive
in ways never before seen before,
that even God herself will rouse from her divine slumber.
She will then ascend to a regal height,
and clap her hands in a thunderous roar
her giddy approval
echoing from the heavens.
How will your art will be perceived by the world?
Do you care, or
should you even care?
I think not, for the only way to be connected
with the powerful creative energies that give rise to
beautiful masterpieces of the imagination,
Is to let fall away
everything others can possibly think or care about you.
List every petty concern that you think might flit through the minds
of your brother and sister,
mother and father,
friend and foe…
Then add a hundred more,
a litany of every
possible horrible thing
anybody could ever say to you
take this list, and
burn it outside,
in the shadow of an ancient spruce tree in the woods
closest to your home.
The one that knows your secrets,
but will whisper them to no one.
and then feel a delirious
lightness as you free yourself of these worldly
This, my friends, is the way to be utterly fearless,
in ways that even obliterate,
the fear that lies hidden in others.
Fear that exists now,
and fear yet to be birthed
fear that that lives in innumerable
unsanctified corners of time
Your unrelenting belief in yourself will leap out across
the chasm of separating the worlds,
and waves of your unimaginable power
will annihilate these phantoms
Anything that does not feed your longing
to become a voice for that within you that aches to be heard
for the creative impulse that beats
the heart of the universe
must remain primal in you.
Because these great works come from the soul,
they have a singular ability to
touch the soul,
Like it has never been touched before.
Art should, and must, be wanton in its desire.
it is the deep russet flame that consumes everything in its wake.
It burns away the dullness of
Clearing away the deadwood in our minds,
and leaving nuggets
of radiance behind.
For you see, is the divine spark loaned to us for a time,
by that force that some might call
The fire that is a remnant of the first fiery dawn,
which contained all the whirling colors that will ever exist,
in a vast palette of loving desire.
We were given us the creative spark,
And now it dwells within us
An unquenchable hunger,
It is now an ever-growing flame that utterly devours us,
Leaving nothing left of us,
save that which is connected to deep channels of wisdom.
Creativity is an ache
deep within us
a hunger if you will
that knows no respite
It is an exquisite pain that awakens us to heady possibility,
The kind with a capital “P”.
But we cannot keep this heat within us forever,
for we are destined, as you may have heard,
to crumble into the welcoming dust.
Before that seemingly ignoble end, we have a duty
to hand the glowing embers of this gift over
to future generations, by using our artistic gifts to
Let them know, these future versions of ourselves
that creativity arose
in beauteous arcs above the grateful earth once before,
and that these voices not yet born,
to cry out into the void
can, and must, summon the same emotion,
the strange mutation of intellect
Creativity, then, wants to take us on the wildest ride we could ever imagine.
Are you ready to go, at a moment’s notice, to wherever it wants to take you?
let it pull you
let it lead you
to uncover mysteries that are hidden plain as day.
Yet, can only be seen by those who have a fever,
born of imagination.
We harvest mythic treasures from the vast subterranean oceans
of our mind.
Gifts we then gladly trade to the world
in return, we receive the knowledge that our art
uplifts humanity in innumerable ways
both now, and until the end of time
Art will remain,