image/webp | Sep 24, 2024 at 10:06 AM | 44 edition(s)

We are all so stuck behind the veil of our own consciousness, do we ever really stop to feel other people's bliss? That he disappears upon a time, When the world’s agendas all compete against his wishes, the magicians box of tricks, Only full of springs and napkins and empty wishes, All the artists just puppets in the puppeteers closet, To cut the strings that kept them tied to his fingers. At last a man to peg all our ideas to a pinup board of psychological reelings, The dust on his vest, evidence he’s earned his afternoon, With paper and pen, At last the nightingale’s friend, A candle not here for long, But here for the ascending comes above time itself, We are caught between the notes of this beautiful song, And his tones the strings of Endymoin’s violin Dreaming in the shaded walkways of even beneath the summer’s heat, Inspires in the poet, the most beautiful dreams. ~ Laurence Fuller, 2024 Cinematic poetry by Laurence Fuller and Tania Rivilis Minted for Victoria West's curation at "Subjective Art Festival" at Lume Studios. Original poetry, performance, sound, AI cinematics by @laurencefuller Based on the portraits by Tania Rivilis @tania_rivilis laurencefuller.art