"dance and explode"

doors shut down on her and the walls cave in
so that all she can see is the end
that is her last debut.

so she's been shattered and sitting in the depths
of your empty heart and now you've broken her
she's snapped out of your myth and now
she's stumbling too far out of reach.

you've had your chance and escorted your debutant.
her heart is broken and she's better off now,
but you gave it a shot and she was buried to deep.
you couldn't hold your breath long enough
to really reach her.

--MRS '04



The theologian cannot pray until he opens up his hands.
And the writer cannot think without first opening his mind.
The children will not learn to learn unless they open their ears.
And the artist will never truly love, regardless of what they do.

The heart and the being of the beautiful craftsman are all transcribed to paper.
The paintings, the sketches, the poetry, the songs, the artist releases everything into.
One man can only hold so much emotion and must transcribe it, somehow, to paper.
There, in sheets, on canvas, in strings, on sleeves...the heart. The artist's heart.

[You cannot express your feelings until you know them. And you can't know them unless you open up your heart. You have to know your own heart before anybody else can begin to know it. You need to go inside of it first to make sure you understand how it's feeling and you need to put it in order so that nothing escapes when it's open for everyone to see.]

And there, you are beautiful. You are broken and it is breathtaking.
Because now I can see you and now I can see your heart.
And it is perfect. You are perfect.

The artist may write and paint their heart
But words can only go so far.
--MRS 3/9/08