“The way to create art is to burn and destroy
ordinary concepts and to substitute them
with new truths that run down from the top of the head
and out of the heart”
― Charles Bukowski
You know the taste of your own blood. And you know the suffering one must endure merely to exist in this world. Therefore, you know the essence of life. All life. You’ve rejoiced in the sun and you’ve wept beneath the moon. Only you know what you’ve experienced and you know how these private experiences have either heightened or diminished certain aspects of the person you are today. And when you’re all alone looking into the mirror at your aging face, you hear the aching howl of your mortality, and you feel a deep-seated anguish over your approaching fate. This makes you question it all. This makes you either want to hurl yourself into the great sea of the sublime or rescind completely from the exuberance of existance. At 2am, when you can’t sleep, you sit up in your bed in the sheer silence of moonlit walls, and you feel the residual stardust stirring in your veins, and you feel the pang of regret and the dread of tomorrow and the joy and pain of being half-alive in a senseless but beautiful world. You know things people don’t. You feel things that people are too frightened to admit — your lusts, your secrets, your spinning demons, your shadow’s ravenous thirst for ecstasy. Let it happen. Dare to kiss the light and the darkness and let this reconciliation inflame a defiance towards all the artificial trappings that sustain the ordinary life. This is how you differentiate yourself from the herd. And, in ripening your peculiarity, you’ll discover kinship with all of humanity, even the lowest. Your darkness revealed, can be a light for others. Solitude, Silence, and Spirit– seek these often and you’ll realize the wisdom beyond learning, beyond the nonsense stuffed into your head by an expired culture. In the end… You’ll see that you already have the insight of all the ancient mystics and dead prophets pulsating inside your own heart. No need to look to the outside for salvation. You are your own genius You are the seer You are the poet the sculptor the painter the savior of your own life. We create art as a way to dilute the agony of uncertainties. Take the mask off and speak the language of the soul. Say it in spite of it all. Say it amongst the walking dead. Say everything. Say it truthfully and with guts. Don’t compromise with it. Don’t water it down. Don’t say it for recognition or money or to appease. Don’t say the obvious or fall victim to clichés and fashions. Create raw form out of intense feeling. Squeeze blood out of the abstract. Strip it of all drivel and reveal it. Give it to us. Now, you’re a poet. We need you. More than ever.
Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at the following:
Medium: https://medium.com/@erikrittenberry
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/erik.rittenberry
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This is such a tasty thing to read, like slowly eating crackers and getting more and more addicted to them until you realize you've eaten the entire box...only one thing to do. It's time for a run to the store. But seriously, I found this calming and yet fueling the writer in me to keep going. It's feeding the fire. And it's great inspo for the crispy, exact, visionary style I am imitating for a current piece I'm working on. It fits with the vibe, so it helped encourage me a lot. Thank you!
Heard. So, so heard.