Art usually begins in the small space
where imagination and reality intersect,
assuming a prophetic stance,
asserting itself from the present
until it touches the future.

In an age of disbelief, one must believe
that the Arts are compensation
for what has been lost, or misused,
creativity having a power
second only to Faith.

Things we fabricate for their own sake
are the hide-and-seek between
our soul’s illuminating smiles
and the concrete of absolutes
that stream tears from our unruly hearts.

And the truth of Art, the real truth
is its own belief in itself,
in the control over the uncontrollable
coherence wrestled from chaos
and the creation of its own values.

Creating something that did not exist before
is distillation of personal sensation
in an embodiment of meaning, with two faces,
one toward its own time
and one toward the far flung future.

And here, in this place, in this time,
we commit ourselves to Craft,
to showing the future what the past has known
making understood that which
in the form of argument would be incomprehensible.

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