A haiku written by Lee Sonogan
Poetry is this gorgeous, complex history rendered in verse and song, a blueprint that can lead you back into the world after you’ve walked into air. – Robin Coste Lewis
Proffer maladroit,
Engender unavailing,
Billiards snooker quoit.
An artist never works under ideal conditions. If they existed, his work wouldn’t exist, for the artist doesn’t live in a vacuum. Some sort of pressure must exist. The artist exists because the world is not perfect. Art would be useless if the world were perfect, as man wouldn’t look for harmony but would simply live in it. – Andrei Tarkovsky
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