Leonardo Da Vinci, Salvador Dali, and Pablo Picasso,
Didn't create their artworks overnight.
So here's some advice for all the young, beginner artists;
No matter what's popular, do what feels right.
You need to draw light;
You need to be careful.
Forget planning and drawing out all details.
Creating means drawing,
Erasing the drawing,
Then drawing again.
I've never ever drawn to be accurate or realistic.
My only goal ever was for the pieces to have meaning.
Seeing it completed is worth all the hours I spent.
Within every piece made for you,
The artist, Lives on inside.
Clay hearts, and marbles shards...
What makes it a piece of art?
We mold and we sculpt,
Making figures to relay,
With the hope that our message gets through,
That we won't have to see the fading of the light.
The closer to completion,
The higher the stakes
And the bigger the chance of ruine.
Because one mistake is all that it takes,
For the creation to lose its value,
You've got to ignore them,
The in-the-box voices.
Trudge on through,
Make sure your motivation doesn't sway.
Turn up the volume,
Focus on releasing your mind.
But the figures of shadows?
They're nothing but shadows!
Like static on the radio,
Their words mean nothing!
Turn your head,
Don't hear what they say!
But maybe,
Just maybe...?
They're right!
Inside every piece a hand draws,
The artist, Is lost inside.
Wet paint and charcoal hands...
Is that what makes a work of art?
We bleed and we drown,
As we try to clear the fog,
In the approaching gloom,
Of the fading of the light.
Every time we begin,
We're consumed,
Lost in this endless dance,
Sketching ideas,
Placing trust in our hands,
Just to see society rip it to shreds.
This path that we take,
Seems only to end in dismay,
But there's not much any artist can do,
When you swing your medium,
You have to follow through!
Within every finished piece displayed on a wall,
The artist, Is trapped inside.
Ruined pieces and abandoned ideals...
That's what allows a piece to be displayed.
I'll fight the fatigue,
Replacing bulb after bulb,
But the shadows of the mind take a toll.
Still, I can't seem to keep at bay,
The ever-creeping, fading of the light.
YOU ARE READING
A book of poems, songs, and short stories .
Randomthese are some poems and songs that i wrote. if you have anything you want me to write a peom about feel free to ask in the questions
