the heart's flawed tape.I think we were in love with the dream,the heart's flawed tape.7 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word
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not the present reality.
I've lost the ability to forgive,
which hurts more than failing to believe.
Yet, the mind cannot wait for eternities like the heart does.
It grows tired and bored, with synapses waiting for sparks
and dendrites to flex.
But no matter how many times the heart rewinds its tape,
replaying the same memories in continuous loops,
isolating intricate interactions and intimacies,
zooming in with the obsessive viewfinder,
blowing up images and frames until gradients blur
and distortions, contortions, deformations flow unite
the ending is still the same.
the heart, still yearns for closure
to make sense of all the torn segments
of memories and falsehoods.
the mind drags it, kicking and screaming,
making it focus
on what's in front of them.
TalentPlease artists, take a time and read it. Talent6 months ago in Personal
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A lot of people is been asking me recently about what I do to create, how I developed my work, if I have any formal study in arts, or if it's only "talent". Oh, talent, that damn word. I don't disregard talent at all, but what I really think is that's a complete waste of time for us as artists to underestimate the value of HARD WORK. Talent is a given, Hard work is coachable, and that's all. Simple math. Here's an excerpt of text that says it all:
"Talent is, in common parlance, 'what comes easily'. So, sooner or later, inevitably, you reach a point where the work doesn't come easily, and, -Aha!, it's just what you feared.
Wrong. By definition, whatever you have is exactly what you need to produce your best work. There's probably no clearer waste of psychic energy than worrying about how much talent you have- And probably no worry more common.
Talent, if it is anything, is a gift, and nothing of the artist's own making.