purple flowers

we're not making something out of nothing, we're chiseling off a chunk of everything. shaping, forming, providing distinct context to our knowing of existence. this is what we have to work with, these hands, arms, eyes, this body, heart, mind. a unique sensory experience to detect the environment, the invisible, a stripped away still different truth. time and life in enough agreeance for at least a sweet instant, a non-binding contract, month-to-month lease amended moment-to-moment and here we are and we're doing these things, some horrible, others feeling innately bountiful, all insightful. i don't know that art is a savior, i only feel the recognition intuitively. a farmer, greek playwright, naked philosopher, silent film actor, radio voice, a poem and a question.