Make art, not war.

Today, I didn’t feel like writing. But man, I DID feel like expressing. You know, when there’s something you’ve just got to say, but it doesn’t want words. It rejects words, rejects the constraints of our limiting, limiting language. This speaking, writing, reading thing we do is beautiful. It’s magical. But some things are beyond words, and to use words to portray them would be to do them a disservice. I feel a little rebellious just writing about them, even. But you can’t ignore those things. Especially not those things. So I got out my art box, scrounged around my house for some things that looked like they wanted to be part of something else, and made this little lady. Cuz you know what’s the coolest thing about art? It doesn’t discriminate. It’s not pretentious, and it doesn’t look down its nose at people who aren’t Artists. We can all grab a paintbrush, a pencil, a box of pastels or our fingers and some mud and make art. And that, folks, is frickin’ beautiful.

The beauty myth and the power of words
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