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Artists, Inner-selves, Stretched Canvases
On that frame-less frame, the world.
They being painted by life itself,
With reality, the brush, holding them.
The painting ever evolving,
The frame continually changing,
Betwixt those two we,
Fill, and are fuller still.
Not grasp or let go, it's all we know,
Feeling's reeling in living art.
Our beingness, gleaned meanings
Shared, seen through, if we were there.
The more art is given, the more it is; like the art of being humane. Thanx for all you All do and don't; have an excellent eve' :) reality
58/M/reality, Earth, Universe
(58/M/reality, Earth, Universe)
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