Where Art is Found

I like to dance,helter skelter, random limbs jutting out, sometimes swaying and jitterboxing at the same time. In art, in dancing, I feel free because I can do no wrong. Tapping to the beat, feeling the groove, somehow it works, and others get it, feel lt, clapping, jiving along. And this, this is freedom.

Freedom is not superficial, which is why our culture craves it so much, because we thirst for that which is below the surface and those, those who are the most superficial, the most addicted to the everyday and the staus quo are the hungriest of all.

There, with my art, within my art, creating the art,  I feel alone.

But of the greatest aloneness where we are alone with our beautiful self, without the muck of worries. Worries are the static distractions, rushing in like pinpricks to the soul, attacking and blindsiding the core. But true aloneness is an intense knowledge of peace, of wholeness, of concentrated focus and of expansive beauty.

Awe and fear of Gd  are linked for when one is overtaken by beauty, all you can do is bow down and thank your Creator for your life for there, there is where we live, in the stillness and the safety of ourselves. When I am painting or dancing, and angrily, passionately, lovingly, extricating from myself the words of beauty, images, and droplets of beauty that have been planted bythe One above to me to distribute to you, every day. again, I am free.

The freedom does come from obedience of some sort, but obedience of the fullest kind, where it started, in the rawness of the soul. Blowing it open, you find your memory, as you remember when you were born and where you will go,because standing there, in the midst of this knowledge of being, you dance. And in that moment, you are tapping into It. That, that is art.