Art and the philosophy of life

Posts tagged ‘Humans’


Summers End

always seem to want
or are looking for
something new
so we build things
go places
jump out of planes
swim under water
find the thrill
that breaks up
the repetition
of life


Photo:  Pixabay

Do you ever think about how noisy, dusty and destructive we are in natural places? We act as if we’re the only ones who matter. One day, Nature’s going to start fighting back and i don’t blame her.

black car on road in between trees during daytime

Photo:  Cristofer Maximilian


man's portrait photo

Humans are driven.  We never have enough.  We always want more, something new, as if we would perish without more stimulations, a new phone a TV as big as a building, faster jets, faster cars, more choices, until we have choiced ourselves into being unable to choose anything.  So much old clothing, we can’t get rid of it.  It’s donated and stacked in warehouses, because even poor countries don’t want it. Garbage piles up, as we get rid of the old for the faulty, less well made, new.  More, more, more. New, new, new.

And inside each of us a the artist, the creative spark that has been beaten down by adults, schools, authority figures (gag), by the establishment and culture, so that you can’t be who you are.  Until like Vincent, you don’t know how to live without expressing who you are.  Getting it down on paper or canvas, or singing it or dancing it.

But wait, you’re supposed to sit behind a desk and look at a screen, put a phone in your ear and be still, doing things for bosses, so you can survive, and pushing the artist down, down, hoping your muse won’t start screaming and tearing her way out of you because THAT’S what we are…artists…even though we aren’t allowed to be that.

Artists can’t make enough to live, ON PURPOSE, because if art was appreciated more people would do it, and then there would be an entire group of people who weren’t starving but living their lives to the fullest, and they could not be controlled by the establishment and than all hell would break loose because people would be free to be themselves.

And we can’t have that now, can we.



Photo:  Dan Visan

It’s what we are…

Portrait Photo of Man

we are walking
all of our stories
in something called
our books
cannot be borrowed
or even translated
into every language
now and then
we edit
adding or subtracting pages
or words
that will make our stories
more to our liking
but all of our books
are temporary
we take them with us
when we leave the game
that’s what our books
have in common
they all end
exactly the same way


Photo:  Leroy Skalstad

Look at all the humans…

Meerkats, Family, Suricate, Mongoose

the meerkats
watched the humans
rush back and forth
and thought about
how lucky they were
to be a different species


Goose, Bird, Flight, Flying

as far as we know
a goose
doesn’t think
about flying
she just flies
is what she does
it’s as natural to her
as breathing
we can’t know for sure
but I doubt she thinks about
not being able to fly
about having to walk
or crawl everywhere
it doesn’t seem as if she would
compare herself to other beings
and wonder why they were always
on the ground
and not in the air
I think our species is the only one
that thinks about what others
can and cannot do
the only one
that thinks of never ending destruction
and deadly weapons
that could end all life on the planet
I think we’re the only broken ones here
I think every other species
just lives
and does’t worship death
I don’t think a goose hates
or wants more than she needs
I think a goose is balanced
and in harmony with nature
she isn’t other
but part of
we are the ones who are
out of place
we don’t belong here
we are the enemy
to every
living thing


Chichen Itza, Mexico, Pyramid

From early times, people have been building stairways to the stars.  Always trying to get higher, closer to their gods and to heaven.  We look at those things now and wonder how they built them.  How long it took to do it, without today’s machines and technology.  Some of the ancient things that were built can’t even BE build today.  The experts have no idea how they were made/created.

But here’s the thing.  There is no up.  There is no actual direction.  We are on a spinning ball, traveling through space in a gigantic universe.  So everything can be a sky or a heaven but it’s too big for us to actually understand.

I look at things like this and see how childlike our species is.  How we are run by ego and desire.  The people who built this monument thought it was high enough to reach the sky.  I’d say they had limited knowledge, but so do we.  We aren’t any different than those who came before us.   For us, as a species, there will always be LIMITED KNOWLEDGE and we’ll always be like children, fighting, selfish, bullying and wanting all the toys.  It’s pathetic, but true.  And it’s all just things we make up so we’ll have something to do.  It seems as if hating and killing is more enjoyable than loving and peace.  We race toward death with glee and excitement, acting as if there can actually be a winner.

Humans…a poem

man with orange mask

we have painted our faces
since the beginning
to create fear
to be beautiful
to gather power
to become
other than we are
we wear ink
and feathers
to get the attention
of the old ones
the four-legged ones
the winged ones
let’s face it
we haven’t come as far
as we think we have



Photo:  Joshua Rondeau

Clover…broken heart

First, let me apologize for the poor artwork.  I ran out of paper and this watercolor paper is terrible.

Clover’s heart is broken.  He’s been thinking of all the unloved and lonely dogs left outside alone in winter, all the time, really, but especially in winter.  No warm beds, or soft caresses during the night.  Some have frozen water, and frozen food.  Once he saw the pictures on television, and heard the stories, he started howling.  The chicklets and warming bunnies are doing their best to help him, but he can’t understand the cruelty that lives within the human heart.

He said he would like to make the owners live outside, alone, with nothing, maybe a wooden bare house, maybe not.  Some dogs are chained.   He said his heart is truly broken and cannot be put back together.

The chicklets offered to set up a rescue mission, but he said they won’t be able to save all of the dogs who are suffering.  Some have arthritis, some have never known kindness, or love.  He seems inconsolable, and the chicklets don’t know what to do.   AND THEY CAN’T ESCAPE…THEY ARE PRISONERS WHO ARE TORTURED EVERY SINGLE DAY UNTIL THEY DIE.

The chicklets, as sweet and loving as the are, do not forgive, or forget.  They think those things encourage repeat behavior.  All the animals who suffer in Factory Farm and at the hands of human, are things that can never be forgiven, or forgotten.  There are no excuses.  None at all.  They are slaughtered, eaten, starved, debeaked, tortured and murdered.  And now Clover is sad because of his species.

Cover didn’t understand the hatred and evil that lives inside some human hearts.  Now he knows, and his heart is broken for all the dogs who have nothing and are tortured minute to minute, by thoughtless and ugly humans.  He said he would bite all the people, if he could, and chain them to a tree.  He would give them frozen water and let them lick it.  He said the world is not longer beautiful.

I can relate to Clover.  My heart is filled with rage and thoughts of revenge for all of the helpless animals who suffer and die without ever knowing kindness.  Cruelty to animals, women and children, people of color and those who are different, continue unabated.  I have been taught by examples, that this place is hell, and even the fluffy balls of chicklet love, know that.  Human trafficking constant fear, child abuse, it’s all the same thing. All done to those who are helpless…those with no voice, no choice.

What a pathetic species we are.  Other animals set wonderful examples for us…examples we ignore. I’m sick about the dogs left outside.  Misery and suffering never ends.

HOPELESS is an deadly word and an ugly thing.  Dogs with no hope.  I am really empty right now.  All I can see is death of spirit, and hope.  Suffering everywhere.  So ugly.  Poor souls and the ugly people who torture and disregard their feelings.  Such a terrible place.

HUMANS…book review

This arrived yesterday and I read the whole thing.  I loved HUMANS OF NEW YORK and HUMANS OF NEW YORK/Stories.  Didn’t like LITTLE HUMANS at all, but I was excited to see that there was a new book.

The photographs are wonderful but I can’t recommend this book to anyone other than those looking for more misery in their lives.  There are some cute kids among the pages and a couple of nice stories but for the most part it’s a book about broken dreams, loss, death, sickness, hopelessness and abject poverty.  I felt terrible after I was finished it.

There are a few longer stories, which I didn’t like, or finish.  I like the short blurbs, and the stories of New Yorker’s were still the ones that didn’t make me feel like there was no hope left in the entire world.  War, rape, dreams that it was too late to catch,   Women held prisoner by their culture and the men around them, abuse, hunger, constant work, scrounging for money.  Divorce, sick kids, and death, always death.  It’s about kids being physically and mentally abused, orphans being physically and mentally abused, kids wondering what the point is, living on the streets, just so much hopelessness.  So many horrible parents, adults, and governments destroying so many lives.

So, unless you want to read about the horror around the world, which actually makes New York look like a piece of cake, don’t read this book.  Aside from a couple of happy people, the book made me feel as if there’s no reason to ever believe that happiness can possibly exist.  It’s a terrible world, everywhere.  The things we do to each other are so horrific and destructive…and deadly.

And when the younger people talk about their dreams, you want to look away, knowing that they don’t have a chance.  And all the while, girls fighting to just be able to leave the house.  Forced marriages, terrible things.

Depressing.  Very depressing.

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