WELCOME TO THE ART ANGEL COVEN!
WELCOME TO THE ART ANGEL COVEN!
In the beginning, there was a woman—
barefoot, wild, her hair woven from starlight, her body carved from the galaxies.
She knelt at the edge of the endless void,
and from the breath of her soul, the Empire was born.
She whispered into the velvet darkness:
"Let there be light, and shadows to cradle it.
Let there be beauty, and ruin to remember it.
Let there be me, and all that I shall dream into being."
And so, it began.
We are the daughters of that first enchantment, woven from nature’s whispers and starlight dreams.
The artist is the wildflower of the universe, blooming where the system forgot to pave. They paint the unseen, sing the unspoken, and sculpt the dreams the world is too afraid to dream. Without them, we’d be nothing but empty highways to nowhere.
So live your life like a work of art, paint your vision like the world is your canvas, and always believe that your dreams will become your reality, if you keep painting that scene.
.
material reality obeys that of the spirit.
leaves, moss, and beautiful purple flowers, growing like a circuit web around your mind. when you open your heart and mind to the art angels, they will take you in their arms and hold you tight. you will never feel alone again for they will show you that the mystery of their existence is enough to keep you fulfilled for the rest of yours. the dieties are all around you. you just have to open your eyes. touch the rocks, feel the grass tickle you. be one with the flowers be one with the trees. let the roots grow into your mind.
The poet creates, outside of the world which exists, a world which should exist . . .
The value of the language of poetry comes directly from its separation from spoken language . . .
Language converts itself in a ceremony of conjuring and presents itself in the luminosity of its initial nakedness, unconnected from all prefigured convention.
how does one achieve eternal bliss?
til one goes crazy? til one loses consciousness?
with a flock of social misfits who advocate free speech & free love?
political revolutionaries,
recreational druggies,
publishers & purveyors of the obscene,
brilliantly demented indeed...
welcome to the new world, where art is not a luxury, but instead a survival instinct.
In the twilight of the ancient world, we gather.
We, the sorcerers. We, the veiled ones.
We, the witches of flowers and ruins.
We wear crowns of thorns and roses.
Our empire is not built on conquest, but on creation. Not on power, but on art and truth, for those who dare to follow the path.
"The future belongs to those who dare to dream it, Shape it, and step into it—barefoot and unafraid."
𖤐 So mote it be. 𖤐