Art as Life/Life as Art

No matter what you may believe personally, it isn't hard to imagine that there is a higher power than ourselves somewhere out there; some god that's had a hand in the creation of the planet and the lives that inhabit it. This original Creator is the ultimate creator. Isn't it true that, (at certain points in their career,) all artists attempt to create something lifelike, something that comes close to measuring up to the ideal? Even the more abstract mediums start with reality and strip away aspects of it piece by piece. Truly the master of all forms, this post takes a look at some of our Creator's passing projects...

Sculpture

Any material can be played with, it all comes down to composition...

Often hidden, treasures lurk in the most unlikely of places...

Stone isn't the only usable resource, some materials are a little more temporary...

And some pieces are gone in the blink of an eye, often made more beautiful due to their brevity...

While others will outlast a millennia...

Crafted inch by inch to reach an epic scale...

Of course, some crafts are more complex despite being only a few inches to begin with...

But there is no sculpture more complex than the reasoning man; no art greater than life...

From The Lab

Show Me The Way or Forgive Me For Being Lost

With each grain of falling sand,
That's another pain I feel,
And I begin to doubt the plan,
That I, at one time, thought so real.

What hope lies for those of us
That want to believe, but can't?
Those who betray, and cannot trust,
All they can do is rave and rant.

There's not a doubt in my mind,
For I know that you exist,
Though I'm let down, time after time,
(So what kind of payback is this?)

Am I cursed to be denied
That which gets me through the day?
Now does it matter that we cry?
Does it affect you anyway?

I cannot help but question
These inhumane, cruel tactics,
'Till I recall the exception,
You'll never be us poor bastards.

Are we made in your image,
Fatherless imitations?
Will we learn it at the finish,
If we reached your expectations?

If this is the best it gets,
If this is all that there is,
It's no wonder we get depressed,
It's no wonder I still get pissed.

So will I always be this
Anonymous scrap of flesh?
See, I'm not trying to resist,
I'm just weary from all the tests.

If these words fall on deaf ears,
It could just add to my hate,
But there are no answers I hear,
Now all I have left is my faith.

From The Lab

A Guide To Stackin Paper

The facts stand clear, the options being few,
Hustle the world to balance crooked scales,
Develop talents, reach levels unseen,
Supply and demand with conscience stripped bare.
The snap of thick rubber bands drives the cause,
Dead presidents ease choices made of pain;
Our fiends, whether it be music or drugs,
Will always crave for tonics to escape.
If not from you, than rivals just like you,
With no such qualms about the game they play.
Dirty paper trails cleanly mark off turf,
Where only one could find a profit cleared;
So stick-up-kids, the moment lies ahead,
Now flip cheddar before the windows close.

From The Lab

A Little Heavy

With words fine as lace and painted with gold,
Drenched in conspiracy, against the square
Restless native, divided, conquer one;
Free to develop strength, nude and untamed,
Product of chemicals, potions and such
Substances crystal clear, murky as night,
Leave the blind vision, to stop and to stare,
At the heart of the flame, the core of truth,
To feed rough the ravenous, hungry dogs.
Repeat the same stories, the lesson sticks
And legends, bored, allow the veils to fade;
Let living keep the mysteries of life,
Absorbed through roots for the blossoming day.