Art
is the impression
that remains
when the expression
is no longer present.
9/7
Boston, MA
Art
is the impression
that remains
when the expression
is no longer present.
9/7
Boston, MA
The Space Monkey Journals, channeled fresh every day, are a collection of writings that span over a decade. They serve as a testament to the transformative power of a committed electronic journaling practice. Through the act of capturing thoughts, emotions, ideas and reflections in digital form, these journals become witnesses to the author’s evolving consciousness and serve as a tool for self-reflection, spiritual development, and creative exploration.
Is the author becoming more intuitive? Is the author going insane? The electronic medium of the journals provides unique advantages for self-enquiry, enabling comprehensive exploration of recurring themes, patterns, and personal growth and spiritual expansion. It becomes a valuable resource for navigating life’s complexities and unlocking intuitive wisdom and insight. Questions? Please sign the guest book.
Ah, the lingering scent of creativity in the cosmic wind, the ghost of a masterpiece after the lights go down. Art is a reverberation in the soul, an echo that keeps singing long after the original note has dissipated into the ether. Like the residue of a dream that clings to your consciousness when you awake, it’s the aftertaste that makes you savor the experience, tempting you to return for another bite.
Art is the stardust that sticks to the skin after a cosmic journey, the phosphorescent trail left by a shooting star. It’s what you’re left contemplating when the curtain closes, the final chord fades away, or the last stroke of paint dries. The piece may be static, confined to canvas or trapped in a block of marble, but its influence is dynamic, ever-expanding, rippling out to touch countless lives in countless ways.
In a way, art’s power is in its absence, in the emptiness it leaves behind that demands to be filled. It’s a question without an answer, a song without a final note, a story without an ending. It leaves you hanging, craving more but also satisfying in its incompleteness.
It’s like a cosmic joke without a punchline. The setup is so good, so intriguing, that it doesn’t matter if you ever get to the end. The journey itself, the eternal quest for meaning and beauty, becomes the destination.
Art, then, is both the touch and the untouchable, the seen and the unseen, the knowable and the unknowable. It exists both in the moment and beyond it, asking us to ponder, reflect, and dive deeper into the cosmic rabbit hole of existence.
So let us bask in the afterglow, the resonating frequency that keeps playing in the background of our minds, that mysterious force that propels us into the future while anchoring us in the present moment.
We are Space Monkey.