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Not for artists and musicians

If I were a painter, I would travel the world and paint everything. I would paint bare walls, naked sidewalks, children’s faces… with all sorts of beautiful scenes of animals and trees and mountains. There is too much ugliness in the world. Let’s remind people that beauty exists!

If I were a musician, I would wander the world making music. I’d play guitar and make up silly songs to make people laugh. I would play in the dark alleyways, lonely bus stops, run-down apartment complexes, busy parking lots, and city parks. There is too much ugliness in the world. Let’s remind people that beauty exists!

But alas, I am no artist, neither am I a musician. I haven’t the skill or creativity or materials or teacher or time to do such things. Or, most importantly, the courage — the nerve to play music or make art in surprising places, where people all stare at you, some with annoyance and some with happiness. No. I haven’t got that. I can just write. And in this limited mode of existence on this dark blog in the corner of the internet, I hope to do something. Something revolutionary. Something that needs to be said.

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