Life as Art

How entrancing this walk

Back through the gallery of one’s experience

To stand before a canvas of finger-painted youth

To scan once again

The sculpture clumsily chiseled

With coming-of-age impatience

Perhaps dominating the aura of passion

Life’s pigment of crimson

Is that first kiss

Its memory enhanced by

Recalling the room’s echo

Of Satie’s Trois Gymnopedies

So gentle the brushing of lips

Exploring the wonder

Only heretofore read about

One’s next wall encapsulating time

That first severe brush stroke

Enhancing a canvas of hope

Might become graduating with honors

Expectations

Realities

Disappointments

All bound in a continued flurry of mixed media experiences

A collage of trial and error

Affixed to the polished facade of recruitment

The broken glass covered floor of challenge

The splattered smear of failure’s mistaken choices

Your own Pollock-expressed regret

A step into the next room of happenings

Presents the installation of a three-dimensional balance

The fulcrum of passion

A mixed media of one’s conceptual

Yet unfulfilled aha

Displaying but the idea and experience

A work in progress

Perhaps to never end

But…

Other creations must receive attention

The body movements of a contemporary interpretive dance

Like the smiles of a promotion

A passage into new vistas of challenge

Bringing spotlights of entrapment

Provoking escape

To return to the peace of first discoveries

Remembering the floating infatuation of anticipation

Like the balloon in a Klee painting

Lifting above the fray

Destined to obviate the fate

Others may have thought inevitable

You rise

Yet knowing

The air above the gallery containment

Above the roof of truth and commitment

Awaits the pressure

That might

Pop an over-expanded dream

Still…

The art of one’s life

Holds firm

Its place

As having happened

As having contributed

As having remained

The purpose of innate gifts

Rewards that cannot be bought

For they are borne of personal flames

Yours alone