(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CgxDwLqsSmg)

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(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CgxDwLqsSmg)
A Very Bad Break-Up
I trace the years of my life spent with you. Fold them up, unraveling and curling them around. If I could I would tag the first time I woke up and knew, that a lifelong bondw ould not be found. Still I'd cultivate those seeds I planted, grow them course in a love cemented. Instead of mourning, the death of these shrapnel pages I would exchange my heart for loves lost wages. For a man once sang "for all is fair in love," guess he didn't know the tiny tears I bear. I decided to give my brokeness a space of respect. Often times, we make fun of the things we wrote or said after experiencing a break-up and I think this does a part of our spirit a diahonor. Some break-ups are quite traumatic, and need more than a weekend and pint of icecream to 'get over.' I'm not a believer in covering up pain and moving on quickly, as though nothing happened. I've created some of my best (and yes, worse) art from these periods of my life. I'll be looking back this week, and posting art and poems that relate to heartbreak and sadness for it is these moments that make happiness, and love even more joyful. Honor your sadness and give voice to your confusion. Work that shit out, it leads to growth and gives fresh soil for love to come in. Ciao, @GraceKenyata Radiantart.Blogspot.com
Last Minute Shopping Idea!
EVERYONE has that one person that's a little tricky to buy for. http://radiantart.blogspot.com/2015/12/last-minute-shopping-idea.html
I think we're living in the most stylized free era of art there has ever been. Free, because, we don't have governmental or religious restraints on our very talents. Back in the day, baaabaaay, they would lock you away or just off you for believing you had the right to just make any old thing that sprang from your imagination. No, no--art had to conform. Michaelangelo wasn't just divinely inspired to paint the 16th chapel; he was also well paid by the state-church. So let's celebrate in this era of free thought! Illusion art is by far the most exciting genre of free modern art. It challenges the viewer to step into a plain of thinking, grabs your perception of what you think you see, nudges you just a tad to the left and gives you new eyes and a fresh work without changing the canvas. Ten people can literally see 50 different images from the same installation just depending on where they are standing in the room. That's exactly what modern artist, Feice Varini does. If you don't know this amazing man, child where you been?
that time i painted this.
It’s Golden If You Believe It Is
What lies beyond my frozen path, lost witih time? Sitting and looking for more than what's there bleak traces of a past forgotten.
M vision has become deferred with constant chattering noises. The softness of the mid air out looking the horizon sends confusion flustering in the dark.
Which way do I go to meet destiny be it good or bad; reluctantly following. My onlooking path has crooked in site. When will the maze end?: Is there more than what's there?
It's 1997. I am approximately 15 years old. I'm moody, not having the greatest home life, angsty, and writing terrible poetry like the little jewel above. What do i do? Enter into a poetry contest at school, write 'Beyond' (which included a terrible orange/purple maze coloring), submit it, and...win! W.I.N. To this day, I can't believe I won because there was some much better poetry submitted and I knew it. This is why, if you are a creative individual you must NEVER stop creating. Because even in your worst, someone will love it. Even if one laughs, hundreds will applaud, but only if you start clapping first. They will celebrate you and honor you 'Beyond' what you feel is warranted. Never stop making. You are powerful and amazing, but only if you believe you are.
Humpty Dumpty Wasn’t An Egg
“OH To Be An Egg: The Perspecctive of Humpty Dumpty”
I am a lost soul, drifting into an abyss of nothingness. Here I sit, and sit, and sit each day watching men, women, and children hustle about in their daily activities. Yet I have none, am nothing. For I have no place in this world. I am a living breathing egg, they tease, yet I am ignored. I should be praised for my uniqueness, yet I am ignored?! So sit, and sit, and sit steadily here each day.
Perhaps one day I may grow wings as those flying creatures above me, and fly off with them. Then may I be apart of something? No, under no circumstances, for even they are restrained by the sky. Or, by chance, might I wear clothes and carry parcels to and fro like those below me..<ay I then be apart of something? No, not for the life of me, for humans are flawed maliious creatures. So I will choose both and neither, because at this clear concise moment in time the ground rushes, rushes, RUSHES toward me--and now I am truly free to explode from this noble shell of uniqueness.
REVOLVER
CRISIS (Revolution) CHANGE (Society. Evlution. A Nation. A race. A people) Slavery--Control. War--Revolt. Death--Evolve. A CYCLE; continuously, perpetually, spontaneously,
SURVIVING
INDIVIDUAL. CONNECTED.
i dreamed this one night, many years ago. After tossing and turning, running from the dogs in my nightmare, i bolted up from the bed as though it were made of the claws reaching out to me from my subconcious memories.
i grabbed a pen and paper from my nightstand and wrote these words down as i struggled to figure out whom i was running from while asleep. i wasn't in fear awake, or in my dream. i was just--alert--and in a hurry as though i was scrambling to make my gate before my plane left me in a town i had no more business in.
Years later i still wonder about this dream. It's the reason i make sure to have pen and paper on me always. if i'm sitting on the bus, in commute to work, i have a few post-its in my backpocket. If i'm in the bathroom, i'll scribble on toilet paper or use an app on my phone if i'm strolling through the grocer y aisle. You never know when inspiration will hit.
xo Grace