Divine Inspirations

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My recent experience as a writer, documenting the experience of performance art. In so many ways. Has shown me how limited my vocabulary is. I’ts only tonight that I discovered that the word “Alas” refers to a thing as being negative. Not just as sounding good when you say it. If I could really describe the essence of performance art in words, the true value of the vast array of quality performance I have experienced in the way that people who went to school for the last two years of their education would be able to.Well I guess that it would read better.

So why didn’t I go to school? I really regret not doing so now. But what choice did I have. Every lesson of everyday I was bullied and scorned for being a soft feminine young man. I was living with the full blown experience of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder where the fear would grip me and push me into submission, I would experience the most horrific of visions. Not knowing why or how this was happening to me. I was too scared to talk about it. when your dealing with that kind of shit Algebra and Dickens kind of takes a back seat. I couldn’t wait to see the back of that Hell Hole. So PTSD and Grange Upper left me with a learning difficulty. The effects of which continued well into my late twenties. I never thought that I would lead a normal life.

Now in my late Forties, all that pain has healed and been understood, it took the best part of twenty years in which to do so. And after all of that. I realize my shortcomings in the academic nature of English.

But my appreciation of Art remains. Do I need to go back to school at 47?
 
 
June, July and August. 
From the sacred fire of Eden. 
To the sacred healing of the Solstice In The Glen.
With the Grace Of Angels to the Healing Fields Of Glastonbury.
To the new site of Audio Soup.
To Reviewing the Edinburgh Festivals of Performance Arts and Literature,
For The Mumble.
A journey of renewal to balance the experience of loss.
I found.
Myself.
In gratitude.
With the moment.
Because the wealth of such experience cannot be measured.
In pounds and pence.
Because Grace is priceless.
It cannae be bought.
Of course.

Mother of the muse’s come to me.
Aum Sarasvati Aum!

My first year with a Mum in Heaven.
And my first year of being a middle aged orphan.
I found Art to be my comfort blanket.
The nurturer to my soul.

Now I’m rested.
I’ve really been tested.
I left the education system at 14.
An ignorant system that failed me.
Damo left it at 20.
But has what it takes to make the grade.
Alas no valid effort is wasted in Art.
I appreciate the opportunity.
Because this creative Season has stretched me.
And ultimately Healed me.

Aum Namah Shiva Aum!
 
 
 
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