Those electrons of life winking in and out of existence randomly, without apparent cause, parallel our minds. There are two things that remain mysteries to human beings: the universe and their brains.
Quantum Physicists have shown that our energy forces change the molecular structures around us. The building blocks of the universe are basically empty of matter except for their thin shells and puny nuclei. Nothing is solid. Everything is fluid, gaseous and mutable. The composition of even stone can be manipulated by the mind.
In other words, our scientists still believe in magic–yet the artists still go largely unheard.
Art is a heightened channeling of common expression. It allows the super-sensitive to offer role models to the thick-headed. It turns the artist inside out–so that the artist’s inner aura washes the canvas of a grey world with waves of wonder.
Moreover, in the same way that words don’t really count in conversation, but tone matters more–true art is the purer path to ultimate communication. Tone is more of a constant, whereas words get dodgy when they don’t quite add up. Language is limited and flawed, and better reserved for more desperate matters needing resolution. People know what you mean by a wink, a nudge–or a glare. Even the way you hold yourself tells someone else about you. Plus, our energy fields are always overlapping each other, influencing the celestial eddies, so-to-speak.
So, in art, we see the power of the raw human potential on display. Artists are the parts as well as the whole. They are the multi-verse as well as the Milky Way. They are the improbable union of all things.
They are prophets and magicians in our midst–and we have grown to ignore them.
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