For the artist, time is running out

and he has to break many rules to get his art done.

He is persecuted by society, his dreams, and

above all

his religion

that demands worship

and the sluffing off of gods.

Friends try to convince him

that there are more than 24 hours in a day

“You can have it all,” they say

but their art is only stick-figures on Sunday

for little children who laugh at them

because they can draw better

than these clumsy adults.

What have these adults been up to for the last 30 years?

Paying bills, going to parties, talking to their friends about how they have a personality like an artist, but no time to express their inner Van Gogh.

In The Hague, Van Gogh paid a woman to get naked so that he could paint her—this from a man who considered being a priest.

It was against the law to paint nudes, and he did it in the dead of night.

Getting her breasts just right was more important than what society might do to him.

He wanted to possess her

on canvas.

When he walked through town, they said, “There goes the fool.”

An artist creates from this disharmony

in society, and when he has expressed that

too much

he ventures into nature

and experiences Japanese plum blossoms

and the wind that mixes it all together

like paint on canvas.

The human creature is the stupidest animal under the sun

because it thinks itself to be important

with just enough intelligence to be dangerous

and not enough wisdom to enjoy itself.