It is the autonomy of art that allow its beauty to abound;
It is its consistent reveal of a mind’s utter truthiness
That allow art to be the door of the unseen in a
Rather particularly visible reality.
It is the pureness of art
In its most impure way of conveyance
That make art unable to be neglected by its memorandum
But by the matters in which the memorandum
We are free from the gospel’s message!
Unattached to a politicians presage!
We convey the promise of tomorrow
And the loss of a yesterday.
May I live as a sculpt
Or be the succumbed sculptor.
May I be the message
Or the transmitter.
May I be the creation
Or the insane creator of new realities,
New worlds, religions, and ideas.
May I be immune to corruption
As so is art.
May I never become a philistine
And ignore the beauty of conception
In a world where things cannot be fixedly conceptualized.
Art for the sake of art
Not art for the sake of religion
Nor art for the sake of politics.
Or even less, art for the sake of publicity.
If so, art is not art: art is unaligned.
Ignorants will come and go
And dare to categorize mere projects
Oh, but art will never submit:
For l’ art pour l’ art
Will always prevail.