The Falling Year

December 31st, we meet again.

For the artistic person, there is a continual need to create, whether song, story, canvas or bust. Whether you see the world through a camera or the lens of other giftings, nights like this one are made for final expression.

Some say that art is a viewpoint or commentary by the artist on the surrounding world. Others of a more spiritual leaning see art as a form of prophecy, seeing things unseen and how our “now” could or should be. Certainly the prophets of old possessed passion and truth expressed in a variety of creative ways.

Passion didn’t keep those prophets alive. Thankfully modern critics only act like they are out for blood. But I digress…

2016 has been an interesting one, to be sure. Here at the end, the tendency is to hang a label on the year soon to be was. I discovered my personal 2016 hashtag months and months earlier.

Welcome to “the Falling Year.”

This was a year of falling. I watched as music, once central to my very core, fell away to a more distant remove more by necessity than choice, with the needs of the many outweighing the needs of dreams.

For me, it felt like a falling year for faith. I saw the religious more concerned with temporal influence than spiritual, all set to a backbeat of hatred and vitriol. Sadly, this song seems hellbent on singing across the bar line well into the new year.

But this new year is coming soon, even as I do my one finger pecking. Soon these few words will be flung into the ether, and whether my entry is commentary or prophecy will soon be moot. I honestly think they are neither.

Sometimes the spark of creativity just wants to flicker if not burn.

Maybe I just wanted to look through my lens and see a world beyond the falling year.

HNY,

GV

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