I look at love from both sides. Some how I do not know love at all. Love is a rose. In the spring becomes the rose. Life is outrageous and full of life. The sun, the moom, the stars all give out light. The sun shines bright. The moon shadows. The stars sparkle. Light shines through the dark clouds of doubt. We all live in a new world of love, sometimes the kind of love that withers and lies in wait of the weak. The bees sting, the snake crawls. I once thought the world turned and people smiled and said, "Don't Worry Be Happy." Now the same page scenario is adrift and taught. Is not the same page theory somewhat in tune with the tryanny of control freaks. The sabotage of others, to coverup the lies of one tolds. The story of life is of love, laughter, heartache as well as happiness and sadness. This is real. Life is real, life is earnest. Life goes on. la vida e bella.
One can say hello. one can say goodbye. Fair weather friends leave as soon as the weather goes under the clouds and the light is just barely peaking under the rainbow. So there they go, tripping over the rainbow, only to fall into the fall of the winter. The lcould, the I would, the I would never, somehow, life is full of cliches. The one of the year is the one you and I create as we go throughout the 21st century. Art is unique. Art is a part of life, of living. When all is gone and said and done. Art of the centuries live on either to be disputed or run around or spit upon. But Art lives on. The color of art is the color we and you and I see. Different colors on different pages, just like page one introduces you to a life of Riley or whatever you are born into. Then chapter two brings you into a life of new characters. then on and on. But the the pages turn, the pages evolve into one page after another, intø a different scene with different points of view. Is not the same page theme, much related to lets all do the same, think the same and look the same. I have curly hair, I was tøld what a cute little girl you would be with bangs and a pageboy. I was told to always wear clothes to impress. I dress to impress me. I let my hair go natural to a point, lets say a curl on the side to match the pageboy look tø please the straight hair pageboy on page one of chapter one several years ago of my life. Life turns, life goes on.
The wind blows the leaves on the trees. The branches sway this way and that way, to find the poem that a control freak threw away long ago.
I live, I laugh, I cry, I love God. I pick some people to have an espresso with and others I would pour the espresso over the head and the hot liquid would spread over each page, wetting it so they go to the final chapter with the last page with the number missing because the hot liquid took the pages and wet them and they were moistened, soaked and non-readable. Then they look and have to create, but to awwwh, how do they create, because.....who are they without the page of the same page.?????
Live your life to the fullest, treat others with kindness and do not lie so much, nor envy everyone, nor try to sell your heart and soul to someone who takes it out of your very personal integrity of being and says you are a controlled tree that sways the branches to and fro in the wind. The leaves fall. You step on the leaves. They crackle. You pick one up and squash it in your hand. You speak, you cry. The life of life is real. We learn to feel, you feel, you care. The life of reality is real, the life of people is real. The light shines, The sun peaks through the clouds. The sun feels good on my skin. I close my eyes and soak the in the sunshine of Vitamin D. The night falls, the moon is full, the stars are hidden under the fog. The world turns, the sun shines, the clock turns into day, morning, evening, night. The world turns, the music, the art move on............la vida ebella
