Art is the passion of the mind when the thought is of life or death.
Is one a fake if one must ask “What is art?”
A forger of a work of genius is unaware of creative passion.
Who will give it thought
to decipher the phony from the work of skill except those with an ardent mind.
To be counterfeit is to be unknowing of life
and lost to all reflections save for death.
In the brain and in the body, the paint and canvas, breathing death.
One is like a larva to ask, “What is art?”
It is Life!
As a soul of passion
is an inventive mind
and inspired thought.
Certainly, to claim original thought
is to escape death,
for what is an eternity without the validation of the masterwork? In mind,
a desiccated worm on a sizzling sidewalk, the canvas of hell is an imitation of art.
If one is not filled with the maker then one is made empty of passion
and dead; even the maggot can not feed on the corpse of a hollow life.
One is just as one was before one was born, dead to life
but given by God the opportunity of thought,
the young insect, by divine passion
and by God’s command overcomes death,
the caterpillar becomes a butterfly, a hollow cocoon left to decay, all that is and was and will be, Art.
To subsist is to understand the lack of euphemisms and not mind,
yet the phony proclaims, “Air is all that consists of the mind”
and being born one survives to pass away throughout life
and this is true with one exception that carries on beyond the grave, Art!
So rather than exist to fear fatality in thought
rejoice in creation beyond death
that is of God in holy passion.
The canvas of heaven is hot with passion
just as the path to hell scorches the mind
with notions of perpetual creation without art
but in a time without end, death becomes life
when one excepts one’s design as willed by God’s thought
and one’s existence as God’s art.
If in life one’s mind can be in this world as an artist,
and align each imaginative thought with God’s passion
Then one becomes a masterpiece beyond death as sentient and awe-inspiring art.
Same thought In rhyme form
What is Art?
Though a beautiful enigma, art is not just a question,
But an expression of passion and divine intention.
It is a creation that transcends the mortal coil,
A reflection of life and God’s infinite toil.
To ask what art is, does not make one fake,
For in the seeking, one’s true passion may awake,
A forger may mimic, but lack creative fire,
Only the ardent mind can truly admire.
But, to simply ask “What is art?” is to miss the point,
For it is not a definition that one can anoint.
It is a feeling that flows from within,
A passion that drives us to create and win.
To be counterfeit is to be lost in life,
Not knowing oneself or the purpose to strive,
But the canvas and paint, the body and brain,
Breathe life into art, again and again.
Like a larva, one may question the worth,
But art is the essence of all life on this earth,
For in the soul of passion, the invention is born,
And inspiration takes flight, a beauty to adorn.
Original thought, to escape from death’s grip,
For a masterpiece to last, validation must equip,
The mind can be a desiccated worm, dry and dead,
But true art can give it wings, and a new life ahead.
To be empty of passion is to be dead,
But with God’s touch, even the maggot is fed,
And just as the caterpillar becomes a butterfly,
Art can overcome death, and never truly die.
The phony may proclaim air as the mind’s only fate,
But true art is a creation that transcends life’s gate,
Rejoice in creation, and the passion within,
For God’s art is holy, a beauty that never dims.
Art is the canvas of heaven, hot with passion,
And the path to hell, scorched by misguided action.
It is the essence of life and beyond death’s grasp,
A masterpiece created by God’s infinite clasp.
The canvas of heaven, hot with passion and light,
And the path to hell scorches with perpetual night.
In accepting our design, willed by God’s thought,
We become a masterpiece, a true work of art.
To be an artist is to be in tune with divinity,
To channel passion with creativity, with clarity.
It is to understand that life is but a canvas.
We are the painters, guided by God’s vastness.
So fear not death, but rejoice in creation,
For art is the legacy of our earthly station.
It is a reflection of our soul’s eternal flame,
A masterpiece that transcends both time and name.
Aligning our thoughts with God’s passion and grace,
We become a masterpiece, a beauty that never fades,
For in life, we are artists, and in death, we remain,
A sentient and awe-inspiring art, God’s eternal refrain.