Poetry In Reference to Philosophy as an Artist:
DeviantArt Version
In the new year of 2016,
It was decided FOR ME,
That I attend University,
And further my education....
And, whom decided this for me?
No, 'twas not I,
'Twas my spouse...
So many years had I spent,
At my desk, with my computer,
Or smartphone in hand,
Researching, contemplating, learning...
Philosophy had become a major part of my life,
More so than previously ever!
Yet, as this new year began,
Due to my philosophy,
I'd become more filled with a desire to return to my Art anew...
You must enroll as a Philosophy major,
Said my spouse.
You may NOT ARGUE.
That is FINAL.
Yet, my spouse was enrolled for the past several years as what?
A Fine Art Major?
I love philosophy.
I cannot live without Philosophy.
I live philosophy!
My life is Philosophy!
Yet, ART is the color of my heart!
As the months tick by,
The desire to create, and do my art,
Began to pour from me,
Fighting it causes me PAIN.
When I am in the room,
I feel pain.
I leave the room,
But I still feel pain.
I go outside,
Pain is still there.
Pain is there because I am there!
I cannot escape myself!
I leave the room,
But I am still with me,
I go into another room,
But I am still with myself,
I cannot escape myself!
Every day, once classes began,
Was pain,
The commute is pain,
My back is pain,
My legs are pain,
My mind is pain,
My mind is stress,
Why am I here?
If I am not here for me,
Then who am I here for?
My spouse?
Does this compute?
It's determined for me, by many,
That a Degree in Philosophy will polish me as a Statesman,
Government jobs,
Community work,
Benefits,
Job opportunities,
Career prospects,
That this will suit me...
Yet, I managed to talk my way into a video class....
Among artists....
Since my major wasn't art,
Other artists had disdain for me,
Or snideness...
Among academics,
And other philosophers,
Since I was an artist,
And had an art degree,
I was viewed as:
Insane,
Crazy,
Stupid,
Something wrong with me...
A cause to look down upon me for....
(Did you know that Hellenistic Greeks & Philosophers viewed art AS SCIENCE?)
Each day I commute to school,
Each day the sadness wells up inside me,
I feel the sadness,
I feel the pain.
How can I NOT be an artist?
I AM AN ARTIST.
The thoughts are frightening,
What is THE POINT of my life?
What is my purpose?
I CANNOT be a philosopher WITHOUT MY ART.
I CANNOT be a philosopher at THE EXPENSE OF MY ART.
I CANNOT FIGHT MY HEART.
IT CANNOT BE KEPT INSIDE.
The thoughts are frightening,
The pain is real.
I sit in the courtyard,
Fellow students pass,
They are significantly younger than I,
So many persons!
Yet, among SO MANY individuals,
I feel MORE ALONE,
And more lonely,
Than I do by myself at home.
I cannot sleep,
I cannot eat.
I feel discontentment.
Should I hate the world,
Or myself for not fitting it?
In death, perhaps, I will feel nothing.
The thoughts are frightening.
Pressure,
Obligation,
Responsibility.
My daughter constantly close to death,
EVERY WEEK!
Do better!
Be better!
Get better!
Work harder!
I can't keep up!
I'm not 19 anymore!
I'm 37!
Is this why people self harm?
Is this why my mother often attempted suicide?
Pressure.
Pressure.
PRESSURE!
There's something wrong with my SPINE!
My health insurance won't pay for anymore chiropractic visits!
I have to go to Physical Therapy,
But, I can't fit in the time because my commute is TOO LONG!
Pressure!
They don't know what's wrong with her!
She needs a blood transfusion!
Pressure!
I can't do this anymore!
I could do better!
I AM BETTER!
But, I don't have the time to do the level of quality I need!
I DON'T WANT TO FAIL!
PRESSURE!
I WANT TO DIE!
I cannot remove my art from me,
Art is the color of my heart!
Trying to REMOVE the Art from me,
Is like destroying a BEAUTIFUL SHOE!
Trying to strip the Art from me,
Is like stripping off the SOLE,
And as it's pulled from it,
I feel my SOUL being ripped & shredded!
Trying to strip the Art from me,
Is like removing the beautiful HEEL,
And as it's plucked off from it,
I feel I cannot HEAL!
Oh, such a waste!
But, it CANNOT BE DONE!
To loose my Art is to loose MYSELF!
Without it,
Who am I?
I would be NOT ME.
I value my sanity,
I value my soul,
I value peace of mind,
I value a feeling of well being.
So, I decided to drop out....
No, it was decided for me...
By my spouse...
Yet, on a strange twist,
I kept my video class,
ONLY THAT CLASS,
My teacher suggested I switch my major,
TO ART.
I instantly felt better!
I could SLEEP!
Altho' I felt sad about not being physically, and mentally, able to continue philosophy,
I still love philosophy.
I have NOT EVER discontinued my own interests in philosophy.
I engage in philosophy virtually every day.
I have found I prefer to go about it on my own time,
With my own limits,
No pressures,
At my own pace.
I shall NEVER discontinue philosophy.
But, my motive for doing philosophy,
Much like yoga,
Is for THE DOING OF THE THING,
And NOT for the GRADES, pedigrees,
Nor the leveling up of meritocracies.
The semblance of Meritocracy can often lead to Mediocrity.
Socrates had no papers, books, classrooms.
He wore an old cloak,
Learned from fools & laymen,
He learned almost nothing from the establishment after a while.
I do not have beef with my instructors,
I was rather fond of them.
I am content to remain an Artist.
I was always an artist.
I was born an artist.
I live as an artist.
I will die an artist.
All human beings die,
But, do all human beings truly live?
There is no reason why philosophy should have no place in my life.
It always did.
Philosophy was my savior MANY TIMES OVER.
But, this time,
Art was my deliverance!
In the new year of 2016,
It was decided FOR ME,
That I attend University,
And further my education....
And, whom decided this for me?
No, 'twas not I,
'Twas my spouse...
So many years had I spent,
At my desk, with my computer,
Or smartphone in hand,
Researching, contemplating, learning...
Philosophy had become a major part of my life,
More so than previously ever!
Yet, as this new year began,
Due to my philosophy,
I'd become more filled with a desire to return to my Art anew...
You must enroll as a Philosophy major,
Said my spouse.
You may NOT ARGUE.
That is FINAL.
Yet, my spouse was enrolled for the past several years as what?
A Fine Art Major?
I love philosophy.
I cannot live without Philosophy.
I live philosophy!
My life is Philosophy!
Yet, ART is the color of my heart!
The desire to create, and do my art,
Began to pour from me,
Fighting it causes me PAIN.
When I am in the room,
I feel pain.
I leave the room,
But I still feel pain.
I go outside,
Pain is still there.
Pain is there because I am there!
I cannot escape myself!
I leave the room,
But I am still with me,
I go into another room,
But I am still with myself,
I cannot escape myself!
Every day, once classes began,
Was pain,
The commute is pain,
My back is pain,
My legs are pain,
My mind is pain,
My mind is stress,
Why am I here?
If I am not here for me,
Then who am I here for?
My spouse?
Does this compute?
It's determined for me, by many,
That a Degree in Philosophy will polish me as a Statesman,
Government jobs,
Community work,
Benefits,
Job opportunities,
Career prospects,
That this will suit me...
Yet, I managed to talk my way into a video class....
Among artists.... Since my major wasn't art,
Other artists had disdain for me,
Or snideness...
Among academics,
And other philosophers,
Since I was an artist,
And had an art degree,
I was viewed as:
Insane,
Crazy,
Stupid,
Something wrong with me...
A cause to look down upon me for....
(Did you know that Hellenistic Greeks & Philosophers viewed art AS SCIENCE?)
Each day I commute to school,
Each day the sadness wells up inside me,
I feel the sadness,
I feel the pain.
How can I NOT be an artist?
I AM AN ARTIST.
The thoughts are frightening,
What is THE POINT of my life?
What is my purpose?
I CANNOT be a philosopher WITHOUT MY ART.
I CANNOT be a philosopher at THE EXPENSE OF MY ART.
I CANNOT FIGHT MY HEART.IT CANNOT BE KEPT INSIDE.
The thoughts are frightening,
The pain is real.
I sit in the courtyard,
Fellow students pass,
They are significantly younger than I,
So many persons!
Yet, among SO MANY individuals,
I feel MORE ALONE,
And more lonely,
Than I do by myself at home.
I cannot sleep,
I cannot eat.
I feel discontentment.
Should I hate the world,
Or myself for not fitting it?
In death, perhaps, I will feel nothing.
The thoughts are frightening.
Pressure,
Obligation,
Responsibility.
My daughter constantly close to death,
EVERY WEEK!
Do better!
Be better!
Get better!
Work harder!
I can't keep up!
I'm not 19 anymore!
I'm 37!
Is this why people self harm?
Is this why my mother often attempted suicide?
Pressure.
Pressure.
PRESSURE!
There's something wrong with my SPINE!
My health insurance won't pay for anymore chiropractic visits!
I have to go to Physical Therapy,
But, I can't fit in the time because my commute is TOO LONG!
Pressure!
They don't know what's wrong with her!
She needs a blood transfusion!
Pressure!
I can't do this anymore!
I could do better!
I AM BETTER!
But, I don't have the time to do the level of quality I need!
I DON'T WANT TO FAIL!
PRESSURE!
I WANT TO DIE!
I cannot remove my art from me,Art is the color of my heart!
Trying to REMOVE the Art from me,
Is like destroying a BEAUTIFUL SHOE!
Trying to strip the Art from me,
Is like stripping off the SOLE,
And as it's pulled from it,
I feel my SOUL being ripped & shredded!
Trying to strip the Art from me,
Is like removing the beautiful HEEL,
And as it's plucked off from it,
I feel I cannot HEAL!
Oh, such a waste!
But, it CANNOT BE DONE!
To loose my Art is to loose MYSELF!
Without it,
Who am I?
I would be NOT ME.
I value my sanity,
I value my soul,
I value peace of mind,
I value a feeling of well being.
So, I decided to drop out....
No, it was decided for me...
By my spouse...
Yet, on a strange twist,
I kept my video class,
ONLY THAT CLASS,
My teacher suggested I switch my major,
TO ART.
I instantly felt better!
I could SLEEP!
Altho' I felt sad about not being physically, and mentally, able to continue philosophy,
I still love philosophy.
I have NOT EVER discontinued my own interests in philosophy.
I engage in philosophy virtually every day.
I have found I prefer to go about it on my own time,
With my own limits,
No pressures,
At my own pace.
I shall NEVER discontinue philosophy.
But, my motive for doing philosophy,
Much like yoga,
Is for THE DOING OF THE THING,
And NOT for the GRADES, pedigrees,
Nor the leveling up of meritocracies.
The semblance of Meritocracy can often lead to Mediocrity.
Socrates had no papers, books, classrooms.
He wore an old cloak,
Learned from fools & laymen,
He learned almost nothing from the establishment after a while.
I do not have beef with my instructors,
I was rather fond of them.
I am content to remain an Artist.
I was always an artist.
I was born an artist.
I live as an artist.
I will die an artist.
All human beings die,
But, do all human beings truly live?
There is no reason why philosophy should have no place in my life.
It always did.
Philosophy was my savior MANY TIMES OVER.
But, this time,
Art was my deliverance!
