nitty gritty

nitty gritty

reaching out, my hands feel nothing.
nothing to hold, or grab, to put it in my pocket.
no pure dreams, pure visions of tomorrow.
more likely to fly by the seat of my pants.
there is substance, but no fine lines to my direction ...
or else, i cannot see it until i have passed.


visions of childhood appear.
thinking.
remembering how i used to dream
of what i wanted to be.
i can be anything, do anything - 
is what i used to spout.
the world was my canvas
and i would fill it lusciously, 
beautifully.


and now after time has past ...
situations and experiences have led me to now,
of who i am now.
and now i choose art.  i choose creation of new things.
new thoughts.
i want to represent my culture and give it back. 
make aware, teaching silently.


i choose to follow what i love to do - 
what i love is creation
what i seek is expression, trueness, the truth.
i want to understand, therefore i am 
who i am now.
theories surround me, encompass the every days
and my theories, they change the more i see.
i want to learn.  my life is for learning.
i want to shake the system.


i am real, 
the true, raw realness of my soul is unraveling 
thread by thread, stitch by stitch unloosed.


i see the world at a new angle each day.
i hold questions about everything.
there's a need to challenge and be challenged,
to jump in the mud and get down
to the nitty gritty.
my hands shall be dirty and rough from working.
excavating the dirt.