I came in contact with some artists
at least that's what they claimed to be
no art in the eyes or on their bodies
not even around them did I see.
Not being gifted with gifts artistic
I decided not to question the claim
on the cynical and obdurate mindset
of failing to perceive did I lay the blame .
I asked them out of deference
what felt they about the state of affairs
and what is freedom , what is life
what is the truth and what a prayer ?
They answered not to my satisfaction
but then I am never easily satisfied
so I proceeded on to investigate
matters less dignified.
I asked them about their avocation
about what it really means to them
about it's value and it's role
how it began and when.
About matters loosely connected
with the general state of jobs,
about the rumours running around the town
that artists more or less are intellectual snobs.
Do the others not work ?
do they not have a life?
why is it that you say they are not free
and if so then in who's eyes?
They gave me artistic arguments
and served facts of philosophy
argued here argued there
till it no longer made any sense to me
I chided myself for being a dim wit
and thus missing their whole point
so to end the silly questionnaire
did I a stage appoint.
I reasoned , something I do not often
that I shall stop when they would drop
that unnerving condescending stare
I would not ask a question more
and would drop the anchor
then and there.
It happened not , as I could easily see
that with each expression did the emotion inflate
and it swiveled and swerved with a maddening motion
for stopping it, it was too late.
I , to put a hold , decided
to question them about the man
who's pursuit was not creative
neither to the artists nor the common man.
I asked them what his life was worth
and the value of his mundane work
they said it wasn't art
said that with an artistic smirk.
I dare say I have a feeble mind
my intellect isn't supreme
but I did retort to this reply
with an intention pure and clean.
Said I, that isn't it strange,
and correct me If I am wrong,
that to allow one artist to work freely
we need a thousand mundane jobs
and a dull workforce a million strong.
We want people would grow the crops,
we want unimaginative paper makers,
we want them who make filaments,
and those who make the pens ,
those who make the ink are needed
those who run the carbines are needed
we need those who give us water
and we need those who give us salt.
We may not need the bankers
nor the merchants in any case
but need we not the things they sell
if we want to live under His Grace?
So what is art , I still don’t know
if it isn't the culmination
of the mundane jobs that people do
giving life to the artist of the nation.
