What is art?Art. The very thing that can make anyone do any thing. Art, to me, is Yourself. you draw what you draw. Criticism is fine but who really cares what others think? Art is a way of life. Art doesn't have to be doodles or fabulous paintings, it can be as simple as writing a sentence. Art can be anything it can be poses, globs, splatters and maybe even script on a page. Whatever you can think of can be art. Art has a certain spirit, weather it be happy, sad, mad, or just plain stupid. Sometimes the most stupid things are art. I am going to say an object and am going to explain to you how it can be art.
Flute- Beautiful music can me an amazing masterpiece as well as the flutes look itself is a beautiful and complex structure
Books- the art of the written word actually can paint a picture for you
food- many people are skilled in the culinary arts (HINT HINT ARTS)they can make anything into a lovely sculpture on a plate
Now you see that truthfully art is anything especially if you make it with
MeWho are we, really? Are we just a speck on a big ball of dirt? Do any of us look cookie cutter? We are a creative and complex race. No one wants to be cookie cutter, it's true. But we just assume we are if we dress or act like a copy of another person, But truthfully we copy other people because we think the other person probably has a more interesting life, when really they are regular people. We think regular people are dull and boring when they really are the different ones. A friend of mine used to say,"we are all crazy in our own special way", but if we are all crazy...wouldn't that make us all normal?
Ode to the skyOde to the Sky
The morning brings color to your face, making you blush a bright pink. The sun is your heart, so warm and bright.
The afternoon arrives and you turn a mellow blue, clear and calm. The wind blows but you stay put. Clouds as white and fluffy as sheep skip across your face. One cloud starts to cry in frustration at his grey color. Seeing the one cloud makes you go dim and gloomy. You try to stop the cloud. Understanding, the cloud stops and moves on. As we all sit and wait, you bend a bar of colors to tell us it is all over now. Midnight comes and as you get weary you turn dark and scatter yourself with glitter that nearly no one can count. Your heart turns into a disc of silver. Good night sky, you make me happy, knowing you will always be there when the morning comes again