The storm clouds gather. Radar predictions of the social climate are futile. Wild and animalistic, man is debased to corruption rooted in division that breeds hatred. This way defaults to devastation and destruction.
The storm clouds gather over the land. Smoke, blood, and ashes is all you see as men march against their mother’s other sons and daughters. They give way to slaughter, and they slaughter, and they slaughter. Unaware that on the other end of their weapon their foe is actually a friend, by brother.
Cherry Blossoms, flower petals are captivatingly beautiful. Yet they are fleeting and fragile. Likewise Man in all its great wonder is powerful, amazing, and formidable. Yet this soft supple body pierces so easy like a warm knife through soft butter. Our lives are but a vapor. Like the flower in the fields we are here today and gone tomorrow.
Our days are brief and full of suffering.
Can suffering be beautiful? Can the human soul endure the ripping of the storm, the raging of the south winds, the tearing of flesh, the raping of body and soul, the crushing of hope and spirit? Can society heal and learn from this fratricidal violence?
Tempers flair, and the fires rage.
Creativity holds the power to breathe life. Life sustains hope in hopeless situations. Hope lives in the work created. By expression I seek to explore the human’s suffering , exposes the violence, and discuss the fierce unrelenting power of beauty and the stubborn zeal of life in the midst of hell storms. Humans as keepers of the earth we must learn from the violence. Humility, unity, and forgiveness brings healing.
Beauty forged in fierce fires creates a pure gold.
My prayer is that love would grow as we walk through the fires not against one another, but together in unity.
-Krystal J. F. Hart