art of everyday living

As I said in ma last post I was unmessing my room. Its goin on in phases. So yesterday it was the turn of this massive pile of cuttings, n write ups of sort.
It was this huge collection of stories, poems, articles, some originals, though most were a part of my collection.
I found this article in that pile... thought it was worth sharing.

ART of EVERYDAY LIVING

Most of us are obsessed with what we dont have, use it as a justification for abandoning our dreams and get anxious and highly strung up.

You can experience your everyday life as art by bringing to it the qualities of an artist-inspiration and absorption, creativity and resourcefulness, play and delight. Artists play with limitation.

There are only so many words in any language, but that doesnt keep the poet from writing.
There is only a certain range of colours the eye can see, but that doesnt keep the composer from composing.
The artist accepts the limitation of form as a starting point of creation.

If you have twelve crayons inyour box, use your creativity and resourcefulness to make the best picture you can with these.
Dont spend time worrying that someone else has forty eight or sixty four crayons.
Remember, as you are, you are adequate to life.

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a story

Once upon a time, th ere was a bird . He was adorned w it h tw o perfect wings and with glossy, colorful, marvelous feathers. In short, he was a c reature made to fly about freely in the sky, bringing joy to everyone who saw him. One day, a woman saw this bird and fell in love with him. She watched his flight, her mouth wide in amazement, her heart pounding, her eyes shining with excitement. She invited the bird to fly with her, ant the two traveled across the sky in perfect harmony. She admir ed and venerated and celebra ted that bird. But then she thought: he might want to visit far-off mountains! And she was afraid, afraid that she would never feel the same way about any other bird. And she felt envy, envy for the bird’s ability to fly. And she felt alone. And she thought: I’m going to set a trap, the next time the bird appears, he will never leave again.’ The bird, who was in love, returned the following day, fell into the trap and was put in cage. She ...

Psychedelic Slippers

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