Poetry
"The best advice I can give as a creative human being is to write poetry. Understanding ourselves through wording our personal experiences formlessly and without judgement, as we do when creating artwork, is fundamental in acknowledging how we feel and who we are; appreciating our existence. Writing raw words straight from our emotive selves provides insight into ourselves I find impossible to access otherwise."
Artist.
You are the best way a universe can be felt. An intrinsic purity of existence - creation's creative. A glimpse of nature's ethereal design, explicit in your loveliness, you cleanse the sensations at the heart of humanity and run with child delight. Each canvas you transform bares the mark of a momentary suggestion of what lies behind celestial eyes.
Disclosure
A passionate union between language and sensation. Palpable is it's intention to those who construct; but left open and untelling. A dance of unfortunate futility yet indescribable elegance formed from truth and abraded devotion - regrettably reason withheld.
Sleep
Into the deep resonance; nature's meditative encompass of resources which enable us to pull the plough of tomorrow through foreign meadows.
Illumination's Asperity
Light rests on her face. Dripping down her cheek, curling under her jaw and dropping itself onto her neck. Falling from above and landing heavenly with an air of angelic grace, it outlines the severity of the features just traversed. And as she inhales, the essence of tranquillity weaves throughout the space surrounding, fertilised by her presence, revived by her existence.
Separation
A nauseating ache, deep in the bones of humanity. Whilst all, with what we think should be, is present only in our utopian chimera.
Recherche
She breathes the sweet vapour of a dream. Transcendent threads of smoke snake either side, claiming you for their own, immersing you in that which is your every worldly hunger. Mellow waves of ethereal euphoria allow a transient stay in her divine kingdom of desire. But as she proceeds on her peripatetic path, her unearthly allure drifts behind as a final dying breath meanders across the room.
Vehemence
I'm led to the page once more. Desperate, the ache of unfulfilled passion seethes inside this head and heart, retching to be spoken. From where those sensations emanate, a carving of frustrated verse provides temporary relief. But only when what is thought is said - truly and freely - can the sentiment be heard.
A Divide
A divide: The fissure's vacant fabric itself birthing the salient expense in the absence of which, unable to exist without.
Mwnt
Within whitewashed stone walls, a hairsbreadth away from Welsh waters where we decided to sign our life together. It was a bijou rural home to dark oak pews and a rough herringbone floor, both occupied by those we considered worthy to spectate our union. Later, solemnized with officiant congratulations, we proceeded up the nave, small as it was, and out once again into the coastal air and early afternoon daylight, accompanied by bells of elation. I saw your face was shining with euphoric ebullience and a winsome youth as you turned up to see the hundreds of sweetly smelling rose petals cascading down through the summer sunbeams. Now though, we are 51 autumns ahead. The livelier rose petal replaced by brown and aging leaves, slumping to the crisping ground as if in surrender to the cold and weakening sun. The time has come to process up the aisle once more. Together today. Me ahead. You behind. Our closest friends, or at least the few remaining, are also present again, and sat in the exact venerable country pews they had done so, so long ago. Strange; the singular chapel bell seemed to chime a different tone for us now. I was as close to the altar as last time, but you were slightly further away. And under those same wise beams our marriage began, thus marked the end for me. - Bryn Wright