Interpretation

Not feeling particularly “oomph loomph” today, the skies are clouding up in anticipation of the rain. Sitting in my rocker, I watch the pollen fall on my phone screen. As the northern hemisphere awakens from its winter’s slumber. Spring is a few days away, and so too is the driving itch of renewal and rebirth. The kittens rest quietly under an old dresser drawer, while my wife keeps an eye on Momma Cat before she goes into heat yet again.

I smell the burning of under bush in anticipation of another dry summer. In my own heart I also feel the need to purge myself of choking under growth. Partially forced, I’m pulling on the reins of my own ccreativit to devote myself to working on my collaborator ion her work. I’ve never been comfortable crowing about my own creation. Instead I’d rather let each piece speak for itself, giving it up to each viewers interpretation.

This keeps me in my comfort zone. Relieving me of the pressure to outdo myself. Audiences are often a fickle lot, leaving the artist to worry if what they did was any good. But for me creativity isn’t something that can be forced. Yet it is a burning passion that drives me to create even more. So rather or not my work is remembered, it is here for you to see. Art is an extension of human mind, a living record of what has been and what can be.