How did your journey to art begin?
I think I started outlining sketches when in my mother’s womb :).
Since childhood, I had a natural talent for drawing, painting and writing. Life took me in many places, away from art, and I have gone through many art-no-art cycles in life. Sometimes, I am drawn right back to reading for prolonged periods of time, sometimes writing, drawing etc.
I’m a creative, I believe we all are. Creatives must find a way to express what resides within.
With Medium and other platforms, I’m in full swing creativity mode.
Is there a poet who influenced the way you see, think, write?
There are so many, writers and poets, artists overall, but I have a funny way of approach things. I rarely look at a writer’s name, I pick first by subject and interest. However, Rumi has always dominated my world of Poetry (and Spirituality), and so many more that it’s embarrassing to think that I cannot think of any. Many writers now on social media platforms influence me as well.
In terms of influencing what I see; we are the byproduct of social conditioning from Day One. Eventually, one hits a milestone and starts asking themselves important questions. That is the quest of self-exploration. Many people have influences along the way. I think Tesla (though not a poet per se) was one of the greatest minds of our time.
I am constantly learning by reading poems and writing, and subconsciously and consciously they influence me. Right now, it’s my style; free form, completely ruled by heart and soul and processed by the mind. So, I am the poet who influences me the most.
I love the concept of Dead Poets Live, there is such a huge gap in what passes as literature nowadays.
I will include my latest poem, the concept was wonderfully executed:
Deeping infusion, trance inside it dances
I have lost the shape of kindly world; illusion is my existential-being,
freeing my landscape of petrified constraint,
I cannot hold myself together;
limbs become consonants,
explaining in the verbiage of oceanic current,
prolong the dance, infusion of narcotic, bening pretension,
there is a dance for ascension, a pretense for becoming the light,
I will not fight, my time has come; bring me thy peace,
illusion deprives the infusion of constant uprising.
It is in the most prolific way,
that I shall dance into eternity; infused with collusion
of my living poetry.
Deeping infusion, trance inside it dances I have lost the shape of kindly world; illusion is my existential-being…