This piece is a “song” after all, so here’s a rough demo I put together while visiting family in the UK. Listen along as you read, if you wish:
[Verse 1] I saw the portraits in the gallery today. They captivate me differently the same way every day. Oh how I wish to stroke every mark and every sway, just to know what emotion was in motion on that day. Just to know what devotion the painter had to say. [Verse 2] And thus I came back to my easel and my brush, wondering the wonder in my mind that just wont shush. Should I make the viewer of this exploration blush, oh I know I'd be somewhere like Heaven in the rush. Just to know I've devotion to make the roses lush. [Chorus] I can see the green and feel all that it means. I can feel the hues of your darkest blues. Give me red for love, give me red for all your pain, so I can paint a picture of you. [Verse 3] I saw the boats rowing up, going down the stream in streams. And on the riverbank was a painter that it seemed was crying, for his eyes had brought to him to such idyllic scenes and the tears coursed the bristles to make art beyond his dreams. Wish I'd known what devotion was tearing at his seams. [Verse 4] And thus I came back to my easel and my brush, wondering the wonder in my mind that just wont shush. Should I make the viewer of this exploration blush, oh I know I'd be somewhere like Heaven in the rush. And I'd know I've devotion to make the roses lush. [Chorus] I can see the green and feel all that it means. I can feel the hues of your darkest blues. Give me red for love, give me red for all your pain, so I can paint a picture of you. [Bridge] Give me yellow for something mellow and purple for the haze, and amber for the energy you channel in your veins. The murkiness in you needs black and white to form the greys, so I can paint a picture of you. [Verse 5] And thus I stood back to take in my art. I still had to fight off the perfectionism's start. But after that I realised what tore my life apart had departed through the artistry and helped to mend my heart.
The Painter’s Song ~ Lyrics by Tom Shaw
A song from a poet? Absolutely.
This is a piece that very much came to me (rather than me coming to it) across a couple of train journeys between different engagements and commitments. I enjoyed the experience of writing and imagining both a song - a medium I’ve not worked with for a while. If you’re a musician and want to do something with this piece, you are very welcome to. I only ask that you give me a writing credit and send me the finished piece when you’re done, so I get to enjoy listening to it too!
Although I enjoyed not commenting on current affairs when making this piece, in contrast to some of my other works, it did (perhaps ironically!) lead me to reflect on the use of art for political means and social engineering in recent times, and where we might be headed going forward.
The state of the arts broadly seems to be in a peculiar place. In terms of music, the artists that get promoted across the airwaves are crafted to push particular agendas - as more and more musicians within the industry are now openly talking about. Physical art is not immune to this same phenomenon either, although the denigration of the medium has been far more subtle in my eyes. Beginning with a devaluation of the beauty of classical styles of art, most of the agenda-pushing seems to come more from galleries wanting to curate particular pieces to push certain agendas.
I’m far more skilled in (and called to pursue!) prose and lyrical arts than I am in physical arts - which allows me to have even more awe for those who are creating great physical art. Artists like Bob Moran continue to use art for great satirical purposes, while my good friend
uses his skills to create inspiring pieces for ’s “Wins of the Week” series. I know what I can do with my medium - and I felt something fitting about crossing over into song, with a piece about painting, to speak to how all different art forms have their place in creating the canvas that inspires our lives, so to speak.Moreover, with the prevalence of anti-human ideas, I see a vital need for art that reminds us of the beauty of human flourishing. I’ll link two videos below, one from Jordan Peterson and one from
, which both make the case for the pursuit of beauty in the art and acts we perform in the world.Of course, it’s one thing creating art, and another thing entirely to work out how best to share it. This brings me to some important updates regarding how my Substack is going to operate going forward.
I’ve operated a hybrid free/paid model for some time now with my Substack content, which has never felt fully satisfying to me. I write the pieces I create on here, first and foremost, because the process of creating them is in itself a valuable exercise for me. Having a paywall for some of this content has come from a scarcity mindset I have eternally battled with that screams that I *need* to do that, because I can’t afford to spend so much time creating these pieces when I could be doing something far more financially lucrative to ensure I can eat tomorrow or have a bed.
What I’ve come to learn in recent times is that narrative I’ve created for myself is bullshit. I’ve been increasingly humbled by the number of people who’ve given me tips and contributions both through some of my workshops and through some of my efforts with Over To The Youth. And many of you have told me directly what these pieces have done for you in a way that money can’t always quantify.
I’m learning to trust that, in the pursuit of what I know instinctively to be good, beautiful, true and worthwhile, that the universe will provide me with what I need from its endless abundance. This really hit home to me in the recent fundraiser with Over To The Youth and when listening to Brian Scott’s exploration of the Ten Laws of Abundance.
In honour of this spirit, every piece of writing from me will now be free to read in its entirety, on Substack.
At the time this piece comes out to you, I haven’t fully gotten round to un-paywalling everything yet as I have been occupied with my duties at Anarchapulco. Over the course of this week, this will be remedied, and everything I have previously made exclusively for paid subscribers will be accessible to all. I’ll also be using some of the upcoming weeks in-between the release of each new poem to share some of those previously-paywalled writings with you anew. This includes the entirety of my ongoing translation of Metropolis, in its original format, as well as all the upcoming instalments.
For those who do want to support me financially on an ongoing basis, I’ll be keeping the paid subscriptions active, but with a few changes to how they work. Paid subscribers will:
Get a public recognition in my posts
Free digital copies of my other poetry books, sent automatically when subscribing
Regular invites to come chat with me over Zoom as I write each week (more on this to be announced soon).
The Founding Plan will also remain for those who feel called to give extra to support my work. I’ll also be linking the option to make a one-time donation in each post too, for those who simply wish to express their gratitude and support me in my work without making a repeat commitment.
And with all that, the spirit of giving and abundance remains first and foremost in my mind. Want to read a copy of one of my books or join in one of my writing calls but aren’t in a position to be a paid subscriber? Just reach out to me, on Substack or by my website. We’ll make it happen.
Thank you for taking the time to read this piece. I hope it inspired something within you.
With gratitude,
Tom
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A homestead farmer's song:
https://youtu.be/sqSA-SY5Hro?si=EbQ_4ACMZAGsUyN9
Meet
Oliver Anthony
https://x.com/OliverAnthony_0?t=JYx4V245_QwI90kt6HQk3Q&s=09
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My floodlight:
My heart uses musical sounds like a hearing aid, I trust I hear the poetry of the lyrics amplified. A wonderful experience. I feel a glorious sadness. Why is it wonderful? How can it be wonderful yet sad?
My spotlight:
My heart resonates with the poetic grammar of alle Menschen, humanity. It hears the "What if's" and the "if only's" living in the marriage of poetry and melody. How was this done with such force? I suspect the ancient minor third intervals are bullying my heart into fits of tearful joy.
My floodlight:
In the big picture, art asks what if we humans sought and found an Eden in which care, love, and empathy smothered fear, anger, and hatred into a tiny iota compared to its current metasticized overgrowth? I hear a sad yet joyous what if, why not, if only. It creates a sight for sore eyes and a sound for sore ears and a resonance for sore hearts; what endeavor could be more important?
Shall we humans be merely sovereigns in the animal kingdom or shall we aim up, to be wise self-actualizing citizens in the Kingdom of Heaven?
I think we humans must learn that artistic creative mythology is not childish fantasy, but rather a path toward beauty, goodness, and truth.
Once again, and many times, a joyous thank you.
More please.
mark spark
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