“Give me a museum and I will fill it.” Pablo Picasso

Someone once asked me, what does art mean to you? A forever changing answer, a forever inspiring response.

To put in words… I would say… Speaking emotion, feeling emotion. Forgiving and apologizing. Being so real that after I release not only words but energy, I feel naked. It’s change in comfort. The way people look back after walking away. It’s treasures we keep, the gold and the silver. It’s saying what you want to say and feeling like truth. It’s the magic part of life that gives us answers, even when we don’t go looking. The ah-ha moments. The intuitive messages. It’s connecting with the ones like myself, the ones who carry the same mystery in discreet fact. I call it the art of just knowing.

If you were to feel me in the way I feel for you, the depths under surface level would be exposed. I can take someone, some thing in with my eyes diving deep inside. Seamlessly like hands at your sides. Art is forgetting the calm and indulging in a storm. The thunder is heard and lightning is born. The sound of souls that glide, this is when night comes alive – I’ll take you there. I’ll show you here. It’s poetic prose and unheard lyrics. I can switch gears and turn something to music.

A craft so unique a heart craves to eat. I can shape you, form you, I see you in a God’s view. Art is energy that’s contagious, a love that’s courageous, opposite of tasteless.

A burning passion to what calls my name. Perfection in aim. Undeniable attraction, I’ll present you creation Picasso couldn’t imagine.

-Sadianne Joyce