Prose

Life is Too Short For Love and Art

written by: Ithilgalad

Life is too short for love and art. So you can't have both. Love or art. One or the other. You must pick; you must choose. For you cannot have both. It is forbidden. Or so they thought....That's what they interpretted it as; that's what they thought it meant. But....
What if they were wrong?
What if that's not what it meant at all.
Life is too short of love and art....
You can't have both....
Or maybe....
Maybe instead, they mean you can't have both sepearately...Like....like it's too short for love AND art. Maybe instead, they meant that love is art,
and art is love;
that they go hand in hand.
For art is nothing, without the passion and care derived from love.
And love....
well, how can you know what love is, without having felt the joys and sorrows of art; without experiencing the ups and down of trying to write your soul on a blank page, or paint it on a white canvas; without knowing what it's like to leaave your bare soul out on an empty stage, or letting it sruvive in the last fragments of a note, clinging to the ears of those who dare listen...
Yes, that is waht they meant.
And though I'm not sure why....
This gives me comfort.
Maybe because my art IS my love...
As they wrote it....

As it was meant to be....