I Am For An Art...

Laura Falkenberg

I, too, am for an art that is political-erotical-mystical, that does something other than sit on its ass in a museum.

I am for an art that splits open your heart with an icy chisel.

I am for an art that spreads warmth across skin.

I am for an art that accommodates the people.

I am for an art that speaks boldly while still attending to subtlety.

I am for an art that depends on the sincerity of the artist.

I am for an art that takes away both time and breath.

I am for an art that cajoles you from the shadows, that beckons you near.

I am for an art that appreciates a joke at its own expense.

I am for an art that refuses inhibitions and openly declares itself.

I am for an art that embraces the complexities of existence.

I am for an art that is not afraid to be ugly, dirty, or discredited.

I am for an art that does not favor the sun over the moon.

I am for an art that gets the job done, yet still continues to strive.

I am for an art that spends a day at the beach, relaxing in the sun.

I am for an art that shocks you, surprised you, falls flat on its face in front of you.

I am for the art of abhorrence as well as adoration.

I am for an art that smears lipstick across its face and declares loudly how much it missed you.

I am for an art that haunts from behind the flicker of eyelids.

I am for an art that recognizes stillness as a necessity to existence.

I am for an art that seeps into thoughts, that nags and nestles in.

I am for an art that understands the heaviness of expectation.

I am for an art that pulls up a barstool next to the old man, knowing a good story will ensue.

I am for an art that luxuriates in possibilities.

I am for an art that knows its enemies.

I am for an art that transcends distance, that goes beyond space and stability and form.

I am for an art that moves beyond the confines of its world and reaches into the banality of everyday life.

I am for an art that glories in the precision of the line.

I am for the art of pirates and sea shanties.

I am for the art of the bruised knees of devotion, of the art of discipline.

I am for the art of caves, bus seats, park benches and city walls.

I am for an art that looks over its shoulder and gives you a little wink.