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Painting: Watercolor, Digital, New Media on Canvas.
Title: Silence is Something
Author: LN. Cavalon
little waves of smiles swim secretly to the shores of my mind,
they come every day to collect the footprints of my random thoughts.
At noon, when my thoughts are tired, they sit at the bank of the waters,
counting the ripples, listening to the gentle quarrels of the ocean and the wind.
in the evening, the sunset wanders around to lighten their conversation,
till it gets tired, doses off and sleeps into the west.
with or without the sun, the wind and the water continue their great argument,
bitter or sour, coarse or sweet, they must argue.
Their argument keeps the balance, keeps the sanity
The nothingness of nothing is the fuel that keeps the mad insane
it is the melody the dumb bird struggles to sing
it is the fire that burns the wet woods, yet keeps them wet
it is an old toy in a dry well, the gentle tap of a lost wind
it is the story the dwarf tree tells the curious cloud
it is the old thing that makes the north breeze spend an eternity cuddling a dead leaf
Yet, the somethingness of something is the nectar that keeps the beehive alive,
keeps the tires on the high ways busy, keeps the potholes deep.
it is the thing that enslaves the brains that enslave
the larynxes that enslave the tongues that enslave the brains.
it is the thing that keeps the finders active in their solemn endeavours,
It is this somethingness of something that makes everything a thing.
Magnificence is all we have to show,
for the glory of the work of our bare hands and grey brains,
the random grey-scaled inventions coated with the rainbows of our lovely pride.
Extravagance is all the cave we have to hide in,
the east star burning wigs we put on when we walk on red carpets of velvet and sand.
Magnificence is all we have.
Thankfully we aren't short of wombs, so we multiply
Style is everything.
the acting, the cosmetics, the drama, the theatrics, the hide and sick.
the design that hides the beasts within, and keeps all malevolence at bay.
If we could just close our eyes, and see what lies beneath the bags of clay and bones,
perhaps we could appreciate the design, meaning and the purpose of everything.
Reason and meaninglessness dine together when you're asleep,
the day you wake up, you'll catch them naked, drinking wine together.
When that day comes, you'll learn the most important lesson of all,
"live your life with your fists unclenched"
Power is useless if it has roots, and all power has roots,
we all know about the red axes that lie behind the Shivering trees.
but only martyrs can wipe the slate clean, only mad martyrs.
Yet, to sit on a warm rock, and have the pebbles beneath a cold running stream massage the soles of your feet, to have your life hover around your head like a swarm of fireflies, while you shut your eyes tight like the scales of a fish, observing everything.
isn't that something?
Artist featured by Saatchi Art in a collection