As a child I was given a stone polishing kit: a cylinder the size of a large food can that lays on its side as small wheels, connected by a thick rubber band to a small electric motor, turns and whirs endlessly.
Inside the can, stones tumble against one another, accidentally, in the dark grey gritty slush.
To polish music I become the cylinder, its speed, direction, and movement. To know when best to end I turn with stones of sound, grow dizzy, crushed and chipped, then try to stop before all is lost.
The value of my sharing moments of joy and sadness is that in doing so they may reach beyond the confines of this person and resonate with others. With you. What is experienced is no longer of the moment, although there is no certainty of this. I think of art like the strings of an instrument. As one string moves, so others do in sympathy, yet something may dampen a string, by accident or intent.
Art works best for those open, that are, allow, or delight in their freedom to move with another.
There are times when those I love, say or do not say, things that deeply sadden me. Not through bad intention, but inadvertently. No harm is meant.
Differences of nature and temperament can lead to silent injury.
When I am hurt I could show it, share it, I could reply by hurting back, or keep my hurt within.
When no good comes of sharing hurt immediately, I store it in my art/heart for its more helpful return.
William Shakespeare
A place where one fresh thought is presented every day.
Think This Today is the creation of Mike de Sousa, an artist, writer, and composer.