This is How We Paint.

This is how we paint.

Appearance, in the end is everything.
We give a product of hard work
One glance at most.

If it happens to be shiny, it may
Catch our eye, may
Capture our attention.

And yet, don’t you feel that
Art originates from much more
Visceral, much more satisfying selves?

I wonder how wordless thoughts
Can make their meaning clear.
Technique tapers in expression.

Emotion should be captured:
Not in the eyes of our viewer,
But hidden in the piece itself;

Not cryptic enigma: Lacking
Pretense, melodrama that is
Sickly reminiscent to
Billboard propaganda.

Waxy paint, paper-thin,
A scrap of ‘art’ will be expected to
Lay out, universally: the nuances of life.

How then can art be practiced without
The integrity, the sloppy indignation that
Seamlessly will weave the fullest lives?

An awful waste, to spend a moment not
Fully embalmed in this experience, the
Strangeness of this artist’s ‘life.’