ODE: Maestro
ODE: Maestro (2nd piece of 3) - Acrylic Collage on Canvas - From history the Maestro looks on, his calm eyes remind of my grandfather before he died of Parkinson's. An Officer of a big war he brightened the minds of those he interacted. What secrets did he hold though,
were there shortcuts and hacks he employed that would greatly disappoint those who admired. Still, there is that song isn't there? With a Dime in Your Pocket another Muse is born, with certain ideals we breathe or are crushed.
The Man and the Woman turn on their smiles for miles and miles. What is brought together shall certainly be wrung asunder. What is for you though, could be for me? Can We all Be another Hammerstein Musical, or should we rather be a dirge sung only at the incessant funerals for what's sore?
Bing, Bing, Bing
sounds crowd our minds, signal felt deep within earlier tones
waxing nostalgic we turn on the phonograph, learning only too late the tune doesn't last very long
where's our playlist? where's the recommendations?
the needle travels into the middle of the record.. soon we feel the grind
turn it off, for god's sakes
stop the turning of that merry go round
go beneath
go around
be in between for awhile
feel the spaces that breathe every moment
and knows the Maestro better each day