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This topic isn’t new to many of us. If you’ve taken an art history class or attended some form of art appreciation conference, fundraiser, auction, convention and the list goes on…you’ve probably seen or at least heard the topic flutter pass your ears.

But I’m not here to talk about how art enhances poetry (which it does). Or how we should see more of it in our college criteria in the way that it’s relatable to the present generation (which we should). But rather I want to give a short blurb on the curious effect of art and poetry.

I love photography. my Instagram bares testament to that. I love poetry just as much as I love photography which we know goes in many ways hand and hand. Oddly enough, I’ve only recently combined the two…and I am please to say that my paradigm has shifted entirely.

Before I focused on lightening, ambience and the potential to relay a story without words when selecting a potential subject for my daily shoots. I now subscribe myself to three questions before closing the shutter.

1. Does the image create poetry?  I don’t simple want to look at the image and think, ‘great photo!’ I need to hear riveting words trickle through my brain as if life was flowing to me.

2. Is it relatable?  I’m a pretty eccentric person. So as much as I would like think that every person should understand me…I know that’s not true. Thus I do a few test reads before posting online. It helps though we know everyone is a critic and some allowance must be given. 

3. Is it enjoyable?  There’s nothing more dismal than a boring poem that is accompany by a boring picture. Sad really. But I have found that by joining poetry with still life art…the process itself has become more invigorating. Exciting, right? There’s nothing more devastating to an artist than to lose its muse…so if it works, it works.

Yes I know…you’ve heard this before. I hope you don’t mind hearing it again.

                    Image

While I was exploring the coastal beaches of Florida, I happened upon this embark in Clearwater.  I often visit different cities and habitats for inspiration in my writing or to grasp a setting a little better than relying on pure imagination. 

The wind was cool and the skies were gray. The people were scattered across the coast like Camden flowers. This little area was completely vacant, filled with a quiet solitude accompany by the anxious waves crashing against the bank. 

I inhaled; the salt air filled my lunges, sprinkles of water floating in the air softly caressed my skin. I was in a heaven that no one but myself could accessed.  It was mine and mine alone.

I was without sound or movement for about five minutes. That short time was the most therapeutic, most relaxing, and dare I say alluring span of time in my life.

Hello world,

Waiting for my dearest twin to contact me has lead to a spontaneous event. An event that I hope will lead to something fruitful. Whether that’s making constant contact with fellow bloggers nationally and intentionally or working to obtain the title of “World’s Most Amazing Blogger,” or somehow acquiring a small fan base, let me say I will be most grateful and in an euphoric state.

My name is Felecia. That’s with two e’s and one i and sadly without the presence of a  “p” or “y.”  I am an artist in a world of music, art, and literary creations.  I intend to make this a blog of sights. To show my viewers a world that can be seen only through my eyes. While we may share similar views and sights, every event is special and specific to the beholder.

Anything dealing with the arts and at times politics. That’s my objective. I welcome visitors from all spectrum and value the opinions of others. I hope we can all converse freely and with an open mind.