Art
Thoughts on Art...
A Color by Letter Wonderland
2025.04.02
Wednesday, April 02, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
How’s the day? O/
Spring fun in the sun?
Work to be done?
Call it fun, get it done, and call it won.
Hope you’re well.
On with our show...
...
What about the place in between?
That space of time from a word set down to that word read.
Do you think these words placed in this place are like seeds in The Earth?
Did they sprout yet?
When you read them are they flowers or only stems?
Full bloom or just pressing through the dirt, their whole life to live?
Perhaps the stage of each word set down depends on the reflection you see.
Can you see the whole tree?
Just a sapling?
I’ve got forests for sentences; whole cities burst to life in each paragraph.
Do you read my intention with your attention?
It’s your expression of my impression you ingest as you read.
I wonder how you read me… what do you see?
I paint as clear an image of each moment as I can.
But my words are a color by letter wonderland for your paint, your brushstroke dreams.
We paint our days with the memories of the colors we see.
Red for me is not red for you.
For the whole spectrum this is true.
My words are the expressions of the colors I sense.
So are yours.
Our imaginations live and breathe and feast on rainbows.
Perhaps one day you’ll share your painting of The World with me.
Because your color red will never look exactly like mine makes the meaning and purpose of Art.
We can never measure the value of color, only experience it and share that experience.
You see and hear (music has color, too) your own color show and call it Life.
You ought to share it sometime.
Take care, realize you paint the air with every sound and stare of every word you choose, see your life is your masterpiece awaiting its weave, weave away and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Ghost, Ironic
2025.03.22
Saturday, March 22, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
How’s the day? O/
Pictures of your life matching your dreams?
AI prompts based on other people’s expectations of your life producing failed feedback to get in the way of actual you?
As AI gets more prevalent we have to start having more conversations on identity and the morality of the internet.
We must not forget or belittle the importance of physical touch in our lives. Sight, sound, taste, and smell are as much a part of who you are as the sights and sounds of online that seek to represent you.
An internet thumbprint can never replace the physical touch and presence of you.
Breath to breath, body near body, eye to eye is always the best way to know someone. It is the foundation of any true personal relationship.
Internet business is for the internet. Life is for living and that means touch and air and the present of presence.
To be complete any personal relationship has to, from time to time, share the same sense of place.
If you never looked a person directly in the eye, shared the same air, you can never truly know them.
Image devoid of substance is a step removed from life and so lacks in experience.
That common saying after a friend relays a memory to you with an excited voice and the words fail to communicate their experience, “Guess you had to be there,” is the true experience of most of our online relationships.
An online portrayal of ourselves leaves a poor trail of evidence to portray who and what we actually are.
These words ironically from a writer with the avatar +he Ghos+.
Can you ever, regardless how refined and original they may be, truly know me through these words?
No.
But you can know me better.
I could post image after image of myself on this site, but the pictures would no more represent me than the AI generated ones I use in every post.
An image that a man in his 40’s, about 6’3’’, with eyes as blue as the skies he sings sits here scribbling these words to you, can only be a representative of the humbly handsome charismatic guy I am.
Not me, myself.
Should we meet on any street after you’ve read me you know me better by my words.
My words and images are not me; they are an expression of me. An expression called my ghost.
I’ve been writing for a long time and know myself and my views well. How I imagine life comes through in a clear original way.
AI can’t emulate me because only I make me.
Same as you.
AI can’t write a symphony like Beethoven if Beethoven never existed.
AI can’t write like Wynn without O/ me.
The drive and purposed spirit of Beethoven is in every note.
My drive and spirit is in each word here. It comes through in every syllable.
I worked hard so it could. I bring all the sincere truth of my thoughts and imaginings to every sentence, so you can best sense my meanings.
To create a story, a film, a song using another's image is to make a lie.
It is not Art. It is a bastardization of Art.
It can be a tool to help you better understand your craft, but it can never express any experience of your true self. Except, perhaps, your willingness to use another for your own personal gain.
To say a picture, story, poem, or song is your own using another artist’s work is the work of a coward scared to share their own experience in a clear unique way.
Unless the experience they’re attempting to express is the theft of another’s work to make a profit for themselves.
Art imitates life not art.
We genuinely express ourselves to share our experience to enrich yours, to help you not feel so alone, to give you new language to understand your own life; write your own story of you, paint your own picture of you, sing your own song of you.
There’s much more to be said regarding sincerity and morality in the Age of AI.
The conversation must begin with the Spirit. We have to get practical talking about soul if we’re to stay true to the purpose of living a good honest life.
What purpose is having a name if another can steal it for their own personal greed?
What purpose is having a body if another can contort the image of it online for their own childish shouts for attention to cover up their fear to share anything genuine from their own personal heart?
This is a main topic of discussion for me. There’s a lot more to say.
Standing up for the power of the spirit, for the reality of the Ghost in each of us, is part of my life’s work.
My name, like every poets word, is no coincidence.
In this AI Age someone’s got to have our spirit’s back.
Join me, be true to you the best you can with what today has to offer, be your story of you intentionally, take care, and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Sincerity
2025.02.25
Tuesday February 25, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful place.
Hello. O/ Back again, I see.
You are getting wiser.
Good to see you and good for you.
Hope your day goes well.
On with our show...
...
"It feels right; I like to make sentences."
My personal reason for the work I do.
Of course there's the possibility to help another, to give them insight, to shine a light on a dark place in their life to better help them make sense of it.
Our work though, to be considered work, has to provide some result that helps further life.
Life isn't our heartbeat, isn't the steps in our feet. Life is living: Alive!
Life is experience and the expression of the experience.
Art helps us to better express our experience and so enrich our life.
Art gives us the opportunity to grow.
Without Art we're just materialistic stomachs, arms, and legs looking to rub up and down against something to occupy us until we're hungry enough to eat again.
It's not intellectual, Art never is.
It's gratitude.
An artist shares an experience in a new way in hopes you'll share the experience from their expression.
The measure of Art is in its ability to affect us in the manner the artist desires.
If a Love song doesn't sound like love, it's about something else...
Like the need for the artist to examine their definition of Love, because if the music isn't sounding 'it' it ain't 'it.'
Clarity of expression is the most, and perhaps only, rule of Art.
Be Clear.
Every artist, musician, poet, author bumper sticker that to your laptop or guitar case.
Feel what you're creating while you create it.
A quick uplifting beach read needs to be wrote in a quick uplifting manner to be any good.
A Love song best be wrote from a place and sung from a place of Love, or the lie will lie in the lyrics and notes.
There is no greater tragedy in the whole world of Art than a disingenuous Love song.
Frankly, they're nauseating and serve neither the artist nor the audience.
Art never lies and so what the world hears is another's display of some lesser experience posing as Love for some personal false sense of importance or financial gain.
But there's nothing there but insincerity, the inability to be brave enough to clearly express yourself.
If it's not Love, it's something else.
Define something else, sing about that, or it's just failed Art.
Some thoughts on sincerity and how best to do our work, live our lives.
Take care, be gracious and grateful and make a better day.
+he Ghos+
Experience
2025.02.16
Sunday February 16, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
Snow before sunrise, at it again.
Hope all is well with you.
Peace and quiet is my diet.
How about you?
On with the show.
...
The world is fast and slow, loud and soft.
Shadows and light are one event and rule the sphere.
Color is the shine and the shade in a perpetual dance called Life.
How the light expresses the shapes we define with our words makes our chance for experience.
Every chair, house, and airplane; all things are built from our expressions of all things.
The dreams we have stored in every board of wood and microchip say what we can do with them.
We must add new dreams to a thing for a chance for it to grow.
Our shared story of each word says what is possible for the tangible experience of what the word represents.
To add a new dream to a common experience is necessary to grow the experience of what Life can mean.
A new vision of the meaning and measure of each word enriches our lives.
Without the enrichment of new dreams, Life becomes a wrote exercise and stagnates. We're left in a depression called sameness; we fester, we spoil, we stink.
Art feeds new dreams to the experience of Life. Without which we surround ourselves in similar story walls of understanding. Until so many days pass, we find ourselves buried in that stack-house called sameness.
The new light a new dream of an Artist sheds on an experience gives us the chance to evolve.
Deep end of the thought pool this morning…
Hope your dreams lift you up, serve you right.
Take care, hug an artist, be an artist; make us all the chance for a better day.
+he Ghos+
A Tangible Friend
2025.02.04
February 04, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ How are you?
Yawn, stretch, you got this.
A couple months from now the sun will be up.
Now, it's a couple hours away.
On with the show.
...
There's a lot to say.
Somedays that voice, the one in the wind, sings loquacious, wants a whirlwind stack of words.
I often refer to it as the rhythm of the day.
The unconscious imagination, as psychology refers to it.
Though, I think Spirit, Holy Spirit, makes more sense.
Years spent alone living in dreams to survive, to give meaning to days spent physically drained fighting illness, show the word choice is a better one.
Our dreams come from somewhere, something.
The unconscious is a tangible friend.
We don't have life without a dream of life.
We don't talk about spirit enough. Our yardsticks have no hatch marks to measure it, so we keep from talking about it, at unease we'll express it wrong.
But we do express spirit. In fact, it is all we express.
The moral shape to our stories, pop songs, films prove human interaction has its own shape.
There is a right way to live.
Our stories show us the shape and way of the spirit. We share it, we're made of it, from it, for it.
We're the hero of our own life.
We ought to consciously recognize this shared measurable fact by juxtaposing our experience with that of the heroes in our stories.
Emotional sentiments in our popular music are heroic tests of our strength, major points in our personal story arcs.
The message of the music helps us not feel alone by recognizing the shared value of the experience.
Everyone knows when the superhero wins; everyone cheers.
We have everything in common.
A universal spirit moves the world and shows us our lives have a purpose measurable through our arts.
Some songs make you want to dance, others smile, others cry.
Just like us.
How well the immediacy of the moment of the artist is conveyed speaks to the success of the piece.
What we call Great Art is instantly almost identical to the experience of the moment the artist wishes to convey.
Walk into the Sistine Chapel and it doesn't matter if you're 18 or 88, you look up at the ceiling and you say, "Oh, my God."
And Michelangelo from his grave says, "Gotcha."
We all feel driven at times, something has to be done, and it has to be done now. It's exhausting. It nags and motivates you at the same time. Your belief in the importance of it gives you the adrenaline to see it through. Beethoven's Fifth Symphony knows it, too. Every violin string sings, "Get it done."
Life is a shared experience that moves in a certain way. Art is its record.
Take care, listen to a song, read a book or poem, binge watch a TV series, watch a movie, realize you're not alone feeling the way it causes you to feel because something very real is here to experience and share, and have that better day.
+he Ghos+
