Posts Tagged ‘expression’

Sigh.

I came here with all intentions to write. All intentions to vent. All intentions to rant. Now I’m here… And I’m trying to process how I feel… the only thing that is coming out is *sigh*.

Sigh is able to express so much in such a simple gesture. It embodies what I feel now. How you make me feel. How you made me feel. How everything makes me feel.

Sigh

I’m realized that I’m quite afraid of my thoughts because when I start going… it doesn’t stop and the things my thoughts think up will make me think me and worry. I will create scenarios and outcomes from the most likely to the less possible. The ones that will destroy me to the ones that I wish would be. The ones I know is the case but I don’t want to accept to the ones I couldn’t even imagine wishing for.

Sigh.

Where did you come from? Where did it come from? Where does love come from? 

Sigh.

Everyone is looking. They all love what they see. Can’t you see they are looking at You? Open your eyes. Go and spread your wings and fly. Don’t let me be a cage. Fly free.

Sigh.

Why am I still Sighing?

Sigh.

The Art I Love

Posted: November 23, 2012 in Poems
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Art stimulates.

The mind is tasked to observe, perceive, and interpret.

Then at the end of it all;

The mind has to conclude.

The eyes see,

The ears hear,

The body feels the rhythm

Causing us to move;

Move from a place of comfort.

Getting lost in the artist’s mind.

Our minds shaken from a state of rest

Shaken to a point where there’s balance.

A balance between the norm and unusual.

Creativity driven by imagination.

Triggered simply by an idea.

The idea that nothing really is as it seems.

There’s more to some things than what we see.

So if they can deliver, present and express that idea.

Raging havoc in minds of people who are set in their ways,

Opening eyes, literally and figuratively, to possibilities;

Well that’s the artists’ job.

I love art that comforts the unstable and undermines the comfortable.

Fine art and art at large.

Art that provokes and calms.

Art that flows;

Flows sure and steadily like a raging river.

Art that does the unexpected.

Art that evokes pain and stirs up anger

Art that both lies and speaks the truth

Leaving us to wonder which.

Art that questions and states,

And it causes disgust.

Simply because it doesn’t conform.

Art that follows no path,

But forges its own.

One of man’s greatest fears;

Opposition to routine and habit.

The art I love does not care.

This girl was performing at the annual Spirit of the Nation Show in Barbados Saturday night and she was so good she had all the media focused on her when she was performing in her group.

I had somewhat of a minishoot with her.

These are just some of the photos from the show. You can view the whole album (higher quality) on my Facebook page http://www.facebook.com/NEXTshotPhotos

Or here’s the direct link to the album: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.525356687476191.121394.215296848482178&type=1&refid=18&ref=bookmark

Like and share. I hope you enjoy.

Thanks.

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See My Picture

Posted: February 8, 2012 in Poems
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I write because I choose to.

I choose to write because I want to.

I write not because I need to,

But because that’s what I do.

I express.

I express feelings, thoughts and opinions.

All mine of course,

Because it’s my mind, of course.

Nothing quite making total sense

Because there’s no course of action.

I just write.

As my pen touches my pad

My line of thought

Become lines of confusion.

A mass of chaos.

Who is to blame for that?

I blame myself.

But I only blame myself for speaking.

Speaking out about what I’m thinking.

I write what comes out.

Yes, it may very well spill out like it has

But that’s what’s there.

I mean not to confuse you

And I hope I don’t mislead you

But I blame you too

If my words are lost with you.

The words written,

Are more than just written words.

Each stroke becomes a piece to the puzzle.

So as I write,

I draw.

There’s a face hidden there.

I write. So you read.

It’s through your eyes that you’ll see

That hidden face is me.