the essential art guild mission statement

The thing is that some of us need to be born again as warriors of the past, reincarnated across seas to settle disputes once left in limbo, to grant ourselves a journey along which to persist, or to bring about some inspiration even if just for a single story, to be paired with a perfect soundtrack, to attune us to the adventurous particles that hide behind pervasive doom. And if we can communicate and reawaken this bond in other people, then maybe we could momentarily cure the dread of loneliness. Some of us need the memories of the wars we all died in, because although our politics were different, we lost each other side by side on the battlefield for the flies that swarmed near the tops of pyramids and watched over our demise. We had to ask the merchants in our dreams who the creators are of these elaborate works of art that they carry, just for them to point a finger back and say it's us, and for us to then wake up before we can remember how we did it. Some of us had to disregard the heritage of our blood streams because the books we chose to fill our shelves with felt more familial, and our umbilical cords were cut in a way that awkwardly detached us from our motherlands, and our very mothers forgot to lick us when we were infants and pass onto us their vowel harmonies and lexicons. And some of us are aware of the sensitivity these necessities require, and we wouldn’t fail to use them carefully for our vitality, and to build a scene you would sometimes come across and love enough to remain in forever, which you would carry on with you despite your departure from it. And we would keep doing it to know that the kids imagine passionate kisses or desperate chases in the rain when they step into the shower. And that the elderly still like to push through their stiff bones to press juice out of fruits just because it feels good. And we would disregard the collective hopelessness for you, and would take every blow to our credibility. We would keep doing it even if you weren’t watching. And will prevail through all of the attempts to misdiagnose us. Because we will set the trend at the inappropriate time and will make you laugh through your embarrassment of dying. And while they go and decide on which side of their dualistic spectrum our actions swing to, we will do so much as to never be caught up with. And while some of us will walk the outskirts of the labyrinth, and others might get stuck in one of its winding loops, you’ll lift the puzzle and shake us out of it, and we will catch a glimpse of each other’s faces before retreating to our respective cocoons. If you thought you knew anything, we will be sure to confuse you. At night we will hope you will visit the beds where we are sleeping, and tighten the grip of the golden cord connecting us to you, and that you’ll splash us with a color that we will wakefully witness on the following day and be reminded of our love for you.