Don’t worry Mrs. Liamini, I’m aware that this blog is late…but I guess it was an accidental artistic choice? Defying the construct of time, breaking boundaries like an admirable work of art usually does. Contrary to popular belief however, I believe that art doesn’t require intention—but rather, interpretation. Let me begin by explaining that art doesn’t necessarily have to be man-made. Even the dirt sprawled across a sidewalk is nature’s conviction on canvas, as long as the eye of the beholder sees it that way. Intention is a complex trait attributed only to humans (unless you believe in a God or higher power), and I think that sadly limits our perspective of art to something that’s only touchable by humanity. Art isn’t simply pencil on paper. It isn’t just ink blotches on walls. Art is the blemished fur under a panda’s eyes. Art is the iridescent waves that engulfs the northern sky. Art is an abandoned leaf dancing through the wind. Although many religions may disagree, ...
Dear Mr. Brown, My name is Arya Shah. I am seventeen years old, and a senior at Troy High School. I stumbled upon your poem, "Labor", initially out of reluctancy to check-the-box on what I thought was a labor intensive English assignment. However, I quickly became so engrossed into the poem and I forgot about the trivial work I was pulling my hair out for just a few minutes ago. What I admire most about this poem is its ambiguity, and the unsettling atmosphere it leaves. While you begin ranting about "cuss[ing] cutting grass for women", and shift focus onto the women, I thought surely the poem would reveal a tender heart, or wholesome relationship with them that would romanticize the labor or at least blur its pain. But instead, it's so discomforting. Your force us readers to sit with the fact that "they're all dead" because it isn't only the labor that's painful, but also the love. I find that so hard to accept most times, and can't ...