Keep making art

I remember that mantra, Keep Making Art, a few years ago, but now I'm reminded of it again. 

Art is like a funny little creature, popping its silly head out of the ground, only when it wants to pop.  I can lie on my belly, on that ground, and coax and cajole, with everything I have in my hand, but that little fellow is wise to my ways, peeking and winking, and jumping back down this small hole in the sand.  

I sit up, stand back, laugh, cry, and stomp my feet next to the sea, but that fellow in-waiting, probably is snickering silently inside of this den next to me.

I'm irked and provoked, and senselessly nonplussed, and of course these emotions have no influence on a creature without ears to hear my ranting and fuss.

I search and I search, to find the right food which appeals to this creature, a real challenge for sure, because some days it's a light supper, some days it's a full lunch, some nights it's a snack that might satisfy and lure.  

A questionable diet all around, when I, myself, have a thirst and a hunger, and an ache in the gut to witness those little eyes winking back at me silently.

I try to coexist, in a world topsy-turvy, with a creature that can’t hear, but only has eyes for me.