BY RAYANA GRACE AND AMANDA KELLY ESPIRITU
This one is for the artist in each of us
That little rebel that refused to color between the lines
Preferred a blank sheet of paper
Those who weren’t limited by even that sheet
And moved on to paint the walls and tracked finger paint across floors
Those who were only limited by their imaginations
And lost in games of pretend that blended with reality
No, I’m not talking about some Rugrat-shit
I’m talking about losing yourself in the moment
In the lines your crayon made
In the music only you could hear
In the rhythms and beats you followed on pots and pans
In throwing your whole being into memorizing monologues!
Picasso said: “Every child is an artist,
the problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.”
We can hold those memories at the front of our minds
But they’re hazy and blurred
Why can’t we express ourselves as easily – it’s completely absurd
Passions come and go, ebbs and flows
But we hit a wall.
And most of us can’t get over it.
Why? You ask me why?
Fuck, man, artists are sensitive and shit.
But in all seriousness,
When you’re growing up
They say: you gotta use it or you lose it
Well we can’t use it when we’re told we have our priorities
Pull off the grades, play this sport, get a real fucking job
You can’t live off paint fumes
You can’t make a living off art
Get a grip on reality; you’re not growing up to be a flower child
Schools don’t fund the arts
Budgets are cut down and then cut more
Left and right, up and down
Programs left spinning, tattered, completely unwound
It’s funny how the money
is being cut from art projects
and being pasted to line the pockets
cut and paste these kids from the projects
and put them in an environment
where their creativity is not limited
to four walls made of cement
their script and graffiti
is not viewed as calligraphy
but rather as delinquency
we’re punishing the kid who could be the next Salvador Dali
Consequentially, society is stifling creativity
Teaching us un-expression
Saying leave your romantic notions behind
It’s like, so what if you’re unhappy, if you’re feeling unfulfilled?
Find another outlet that’s more productive!
It’s no big deal, you’ll live!
Wandering around on childhood dreams is nice…
But no one really makes it from there
Fuck that. I don’t want your “edumacation”
Your “cray cray” ideals
Who wants to be crushed into a cubicle?
Slaving away to pay bills while your talent shrivels to a hobby?
We’re met with lackadaisical apathy at the worst
Patted on the head and told
You CAN’T by the people who are supposed to tell you that you CAN
Laughed and scoffed at, they say:
It’s a phase; you’ll see the light of day!
Favor a quick, steady buck and get rich
Put some effort in and don’t turn into a total bitch
EXCUSE ME. You’re the bitch for not letting us express ourselves
For not letting us be ourselves
For not letting us be
No one can follow step by step any path to success
Maybe our brains aren’t turning to mush, but our souls are
Lotta people can’t really appreciate, much less even create ART
When the funds are cut, when we’re told no
When we keep reaching for the stars
But we’re yanked back and stuffed into some cookie cutter mold
This so real surrealism is that we’re
transplanting mechanical brains
into human beings
transforming them to work as machines
start cranking the gears and
begin the clockwork
nerves replaced with cords
thoughts turned by metallic gadgets
and ideas are confined
by tight screws down the spine
dreams are a binary code
01, 11 programmed in the mode
and creativity is mislabeled
as a malfunction
building little workers
is acting in conjunction
with a decrease in fundin’
for important outlets of expression
so who could blame these kids
for the regression
from canvases to barren walls of building and bridges
but rather than building bridges
we’re telling kids that artisticness holds no value in our wallets
so it doesn’t matter what you call it
our checkbooks hold more weight
than our picturebooks
and so it looks like the money is only put in
if they know the money is
gonna get back out
so it’ll take a little more than spare change
to make sure that there’s change
the message of arts not being worth it
has children thinking that they don’t deserve it
so now this lack of art appreciation
has become synonymous with our current generation
Dammit
Literature and art are a reflection of the times!
What will our utter lack of artistry say about OUR time?
Are we evolving or devolving when we now live
Live in a culture where “irregardless” is now a word
Where we become obsessed with individuals who have no talent
Like, really Honey Boo Boo fans – for real???
Peace out y’all – the last week’s been surreal.