People exist in the universe and are made of matter and can't stop changing and are unknowable by others. But Art is an imaginary flower that never fades. Neither real nor unreal, but the Dreamtime or the everywhen.
The quest for the authentic existence, the visionary experience, the soul-fulfilling moment, the scorn of the inauthentic words, images, and emotions, the problem of the invisible landscape, how do we meet beauty?
Beauty is so powerful that if you look directly into it you will die. In the end, its beauty what kills us. Beauty is a great killer!
The experience beyond time which brings us nearer to beauty, is the authentic moment, the felt experience, the true existence.
Language is an alien virus, it turns previous eternal things into separate things, lesser versions of reality.
If you're not suitable for the dream,
you probably won't make it in the future either
There is no word without a vision
it's all contained in the Dreamtime
without the dreamer
There is no Art to see
without out an eternal being
that has been homeless ever since
Kek kicked the poets, shamans,
and visionaries out of hyperspace
where our physical forms are absent and
our disembodied voices emerge from a screen
Which way does the weird flow?
every unit of chaos that makes the weird
the million hands of our existence
weave together this eternal synthesis
carefully crafting the form of weird,
molding a rough edge here,
a smooth curve there, until
the work took on its final cast
the moment of NOW
the day when the forces of chaos would overwhelm us
being mysteriously shaped out of vapor
trying to capture the essence of something
you are still a living body, made of matter
and yet still an eternal luminous being...
