आर्टिस्ट तो Artist

I wanted to write about how artists inspire other artists. My choice is singer musicians, in particular the Moody Blues. They were IT and everything else to me. The first album I ever bought was Days Of Future Passed and I still have it memorized in my mind. This "affair" began in 1972 and I was 18. It became the soundtrack of the show known as "my emotional life". I was happy, Id listen to them and I became ecstatic. I was hurt and I saw reason in it. I was depressed and I found encouragement. I made a mix tape of all my favorites and wore it out. It wasnt rock music to me, it was hymnns. When I sang along, I sang to God and whatever else was out there and I knew in my heart that I was heard, maybe even answered. I believe the angels gather round a person singing what they love.
Just now Celine Dion is playing and shes singing the theme song from Titanic. That song could crumble the hardest of hearts and I personally can not listen to it with at least one tear welling up in my eye.
When I was about 26, I was meditating and I went off somewhere beautiful. I heard the most extraordinary choir of voices singing hallelujah over and over. Theres no way on earth to have duplicated what I had heard or even remember it for that matter. Humans can come somewhat close to making that sound, but it just doesnt translate into this dimension. What was inspiring was to know such beauty exists somewhere and musicians try to reach that chord without even realizing it. Its in humans to reach and strive for what they remember deep down in their soul.
Thats why artists are so special in this world. Can you imagine a world totally devoid of art? I wouldnt want to live here. Artists are sensitive souls who are here to inspire the rest of us, to show us there is more than what our five senses can perceive. Art is reaching into another dimension and bringing it into this world for everyone to share.

Moving

I have created another blog dedicated to personal emotional issues. My intention for Gardener Park was to be strictly for writing about my life as an artist living with bi poler disorder and depression. It has come too a point where nothing is being written about art. So I started The Purple Poodle to write about things far more personal. To those who follow this blog, you are welcome to read the other one as well.

थे मार्क ऑफ़ थे Beast

Interesting, Ive been thinking, because Ive been watching the history channel about the last days. Ive tried to make sense of this ever since I can remember. What is the mark of the beast? Could it possibly be three numbers that have become all important in our modern life? Our credit score? Its becoming very hard to buy or sell without the right number. No one in commerce wants to deal with you if you have the wrong number. Interesting also that there are three credit bureaus. This is scary stuff and Im seeing this devastation taking place in my life right now. Are we reduced to numbers now? Do human circumstances figure into any financial decisions anymore?

Let Me Enjoy

God, please let me rest. Please, no more pain.

Im The instrument Of Peace?

Once again, reading a book has spurred me on to blog out of sheer anger. To stay peaceful, I am to say "Lord let me be the instrument of thy peace". If I am not feeling peaceful, just remove myself from the problem. I am totally in charge of my peace. No one else can upset me if I dont let them.
Sometimes I have to wonder, have any of these wise ones gone through any serious shit? Theres nothing I would love to do more than remove myself. Tell me, how do I do that? Im working very hard to save my ass, and everytime I make any kind of move at all, a stick is shoved up said ass. Yeah I want to go. Let me out.
I am the master of my peace. I AM? Tell that to the bank Aurora, whos going to hunt me down till the day i die. What is it about short sale you dont understand Aurora? Let me go, stay out of my business, Im trying to move on, like the law says is my right. Is this a free country? No amount of money coming to me is mine, Aurora wants it. I cant accept money or buy a trailor because they have their hands in my pocket. The banks gave us this bad loan, it was totally their fault, now they want me to pay for their stupidity and greed. I understand how people are pushed to kill themselves because you cant get out, ever.
I finally got OK with losing my precious home and found an alternative, nothing that I would have chosen if I had a real chance, but it was going to be home. There are so many hurdles to such a simple thing as buying a trailor, paying very low lot rent, and living in peace in a retirement community. Timelines and deadlines and pay outs and invoices due and no dogs allowed and no living allowed and your credit is bad and you owe $50,000 and repossession looming and bird is getting sick and Marc is getting sick and Im getting sick and appointments, and calls, and getting rid of my artwork and the other car will never work again and people are stupid and no one knows the law about service dogs.....etc. Well you know what? On the last one, Im gonna sue your ass. Because I just cant take it anymore.The ignorant bastards of the world need a good ass whoopin. Just give me one more reason to scream and I will come down on you like a mad wet ass whooped bat out of hell.
Keep my inner peace. Tell that to all the vermin around me. Im not accepting that this is my fault.