“I am a museum full of art, and a deck full of music, but …..”
‘I am a museum full of art, and a deck full of music, but’ I am also a poor man.
Around me I can see the beauty of the world, the colours, the majesty, the sheer brilliance of being alive and behind that the music plays, so often soft calming melodies and at other times rocking beats my feet tap too, my heart sings and I feel blessed to be alive.
I know it is all there, but there is something within my own scope of ignorance that tells me I should not take it for granted but rather I should stop and reflect, try to understand why it is that I am so enamoured by the world.
Art is for me something to be admired. I think because I recognise my limited ability, I struggle to draw a straight line, I find even colouring between the lines a challenge.
Music is always soothing to me, its company in the alone times; it’s always been there in one form or another.
I think that when I was younger and writing music, I did so because it gave me a feeling of being whole, and when I wrote my musicals and had them performed I fulfilled another urge within me, performance.
My poverty is of an intellectual nature. Art is so subjective, which is, in fact, the reason for it being so fascinating, the same can be said for music. I want to know more, but I question my capacity to grasp and understand, so I find myself enjoying what I have, and what I know but my mind stays open to new ideas and opinions.