“Cosmic Travel” by Helene Gross

I know you know they are there. If you are here reading this, you have seen them too, haven’t you?

The whisperers and the mutterers lurking in the dark. The screamers and the torturers standing in our way to the light. The ones that look at us with eyes of envy and insecurity; with hatred and mocking. They do not understand what we are and what we wish to do. All they can see when they look at us is a bunch of naive minds who are insane enough to believe that the things that they create with their insignificant, powerless hands will change the world, or the divine idea of it, for the better.

Utterly impossible, isn’t it?

Well I say no.

Because I am the “naive” mind who believes in the power of words, paint, clay, sound and vision.

I am the “insane” soul, just like those whose books you keep cherished and paintings you buy for millions; just like those whose music you get lost to and buildings you visit with your wife and kids in the summer.

I am the “insignificant” and “powerless” hands, that create and create; wildly, madly, passionately; to use every last drop of this God given gift that is the love of art, and the love of love, and the love of everything that is eligible to be called nature.

Yes I am among the odd ones and I couldn’t be prouder of myself and every single one of us who they write off simply because we do not see our world as a habitat made of bricks and stones but as a home that ever grows and ever changes, with every small thing we do or think; with every new life that is born or taken and with every idea and the action that follows it.

So yes, I may not yet be as great, wise or admired as the great, wise or admired ones; but fame was never the goal any way. My only job is to spread wide my five senses like wings, the sixth too if I can, and feel every particle of air that I manage to fly through; to observe it, turn it over and around until I can create an understanding of it in the language of freedom and vastness that is art. No matter how difficult it gets with the whispers, mutters, screams and torture, I must stay in complete awe and wonder of every beat of this world’s dancing heart and assist it in growing into something more beautiful every day, that is my only duty.

And I am, and always will be loyal to it.

2 thoughts on “I AM, AND ALWAYS WILL BE.

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