Havilah is for an art....

Havilah Aos

Non-Traditional Drawing

“I Am For An Art”

2-9-10

I am for an art that discovers itself for the first time, after long years of searching.

I am for an art that is gone but leaves a watermark on your mind.

I am for an art that builds up and does not tear down.

I am for an art that appreciates the nerds.

I am for an art that is like the chalk drawing in Mary Poppins that you can jump into.

I am for an art that is a workout for the mind, and the body, an algebra-running art, a Sudoku-stretching art, a reading-while-doing hurdles art.

I am for an art that is the clutter on the table, the hungry grown in your stomach, the quick intake of breath, and twisting of the sheets around a restless sleeper’s dreaming legs.

I am for art that decides what to do with the time that is given to it.

I am for an art that is too busy running from earthquakes and fallen trees to wonder where it’s going.

I am for an art that gives great confidence, like a gift, to those who see it.

I am for an art that does not darken the understanding.

I am for the art that didn’t know it had to be afraid.

I am for an art that is in tire tracks and the smell of Scotch Tape, a knotted tangle of hair, and the waves pushed out of the way by a sailboat’s prow.

I am for an art that runs like blood out of your nose and down the back of your throat.

I am for an art that rips the carefully, creased, taped and smoothed wrapping paper off of the box.

I am for the art that is like a book you read every year, and still find new meaning in.

I am for an art whose story grows with every glance, every curious finger, and every awakened memory.

I am for art that has sound, even though its flat against the paper.

I am for an art that warms the cold spot just between the shoulder blades.

I am for the art of running a marathon, and realizing when reaching the end, that your number has fallen off.

I am for the art of spilled coffee over homework.

I am for an art that has no regrets.

I am for an art the surrenders everything, mind, will, emotions, body, soul, and spirit, for something bigger than itself.

I am for the art of a mother’s loving glance, or a father’s laugh bouncing off the bathroom tiles.

I am for an art that I only understand as much as I understand myself.

I am for an art that prophesies, and is scoffed at for it.

I am for an art that grows out of disappointment, giving it a purpose, and not allowing a moment to be lost.

I am for an art that would be a clanging cymbal, if not made with love.

I am for an art that communicates better than the media.

I am for an art that doesn’t have to be famous.