Zedekoah 5: Create Your Own

Create your own.  Don’t join.  Ever.  When you seek to join you aim to give up freedom and possibilities that you have not yet even tested or given any attention to.  If the world is so interesting and so compelling why are so many people , especially artists, in a rush to join organizations, festivals, groups, committees, schools, etc – that do nothing but coerce them into giving up their own off beat for the steady hum-drum of the Zeitgeist Parade?  If you’re lonely and are seeking “understanding” or allies after years of pounding pavements or digging trenches then either consider getting a dog…or joining yourself first.  Allies will come. And I do believe in miracles.  But you must first cherish the loneliness, the outsider within.  It may be the only honest thing in your life. But for the love of man or animal or cloud or tree – please don’t sell out…in order to buy in.

Zed5
Sometimes the answers are in the loneliness of a 2AM letter or text message or phone call…

They Prefer You Dead

cause you’re safe that way

(all artists are).

Especially the ones with vision. I don’t have vision, at best I’m a dim light bulb flickering in someone’s basement. But I’ll tell you this: the filament in my bulb was anointed with the blood and energy of yours; and what I’ve learned in this concrete jungle, this new age urbane artistic wasteland is to keep not someone’s dream alive – not even my own – but to keep booring holes thru parasols and allow any bit of truth to seep through.

Jean-Michel Basquiat’s grave in Greenwood Cemetery, Brooklyn NY. March 2019

The took you cause they thought they owned you–perhaps they did, perhaps
You made your own deal with the devil, who am I to say.
There are certainly no angels to consort with

— but now creeping into the end of the first quarter of the 21st century we will discover one day that

The saints were those who became mistaken martyrs – not because of someone else 
But because of us
And all who let ourselves down
Keep crushing those fingers,
Keep crushing those cray-ons
My soul too needs something to wear.

 

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