English Zone

How to describe what is to be done? What’s under my feet? True soil, I was wondering.
What rules to give?: If I can put the idea on the spot.

Answer is how do I feel. Where is my place? What to show you to be understood. Is there any frame able to fit? Why are we doing things I call the gate. Using art in a journey.
Every world need to be described, need boundries. What if these boundries already melted down? Burned in our eyes. Where is the soil to feel? Take a deep breath, shake your ground.
Be ready to feel what You feel. Can You build your own (world)?
There is nothing and everything.

We, Artists, need a world as the air. We do much, talk much. Some say we exist only when world shake our hand. But what if the air is too thin, & the salvation lays beneath. True game lats in You. True space to go on is closed for outside and time. Fear of being forgotten is obvious. It’s natural. But don’t look for the path they give you. Imagine perfect silence, is she good or wrong? Do you worry or take deep breath of it?

I’ll tell you what I see. There. No rules, no shapes. Just faces of people. Drawn into the mist.
No eyes, no smile. Just something deeper. The Last cathedral is empty. Even walls, just walls.
If former ground is melted,the path you take sounds straight.
Look what you are gained, there is answers. And your art, she comes on the walls. Every time when you admire, sit there – you admire yourself. It’s nice, it gives good feeling. Safety, cold air and peace . Is that all ?

No! All you see keeps your hand struggle. Stand up, walk through the picture before eyes.
Walk till you loose time, take a time. Every building will be abandoned somewhen. Those who craft will be gone, fall asleep. Go deep in yourself, cut the way. And then … find it.
It will be no noise. No shout. No road map.

This how it got me. So I saw the faces, rather names. Raven, Leonardo, Allan, Brenda, William. Ewa, Kasia, Krzysztof. I realized things I was looking for were in them. Once I woke up far away
I found myself in the place where I was charged with energy Remembered.
Everything is nothing. People count. And their path, their vision of what I may call the introspection. Writing these words I nearly closed the latest edition of New Spirit. Bulletin, e-zine or whatever it became now?

Conclusion? They understand me & I understand them . We share something more then magazine, we share the same language – which is art, we share the same hope. So is this community? For sure we share something equal in our blood. If we had a appointment, it wouldn’t be big one artistic meeting. It would take time, a lot of time. Talking with each other, going down in our individual deep space.

That is how I see New Spirit. It is not revelation. It’s discovery. Remember moment where I draw abandoned old church in the forest middle? And put before your eyes? The path is different for each other. Although we all are leaving world & time finding the same place.

There we all meet.
That is New Spirit. Love you all, this is made of us.