I am for the art that looks like cotton candy, full of soft, want-to-touch colors

I am for art that reaches into the depth of my soul like poetry that makes me weak and laugh and cry and write

I am for art in pockets like that of hidden treasures and small pieces of jewelry and green, torn dollar bills and coins from around the world  

I am for art that speaks in interviews, that exemplifies character, depicts colors, and is candid

I am for art of the pins and stickers and posters all over walls, on bookbags and in and out of battered lockers

I am for art as the sky, the sun, the moon, the stars, the clouds the planets we don’t see

I am for art in water with its breadth of natural beauty and disaster

I am for art that travels and pops up and is removable and portable

I am for art I can stand on and take a photo of and with

I am for art that includes the mother tongue

I am for art that inspires other art like love

I am for art that unites, yet paradoxically pisses off

I am for art that speaks to me in odd places like the back of my family’s car; the ugly stupid magnets all over the fridge at home, the design we attempt to create on our front door when it’s the holiday season

I am for art that is all kinds of purple–the kind of purple that’s a hidden gem like the paint from Home Depot called blackberry farm

p.s. This is a piece I wrote on Friday for my Art Criticism class. Hope you enjoy this one, too!

p.p.s might be the 1st poem I’ve written this year that I love.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s