The Artist

II.
The inspiration has no beginning. The soul of a tormented artist has no limits. So much the pain, so much the quality of the work. Some artists are in the righ place. An artist is never in the right place,
cause his mind and inspiration travels around world the scientist just come to know a posteriori.
The destiny (in portuguese, Fado) of an artist is avoid immobility, his work his letal for evil and
regenerator to the doubtious. The Artist is a global egocentric person whose sensibility is to produce
several forms of data wich nor scientist or philosophers have access. The Artis neve dies. He rests, he's beyond religion and violence, without medications he produces a masterpiece, with medication he's annulated, sou his struggle his to push up the limits of his mind to the limits of all souls inhabitanting the universe, tiny particules of energy. He's an alquimist? No he just breathes in a diferent way tha other, he's totally blind and deft. He's the essence ou the essence of the living life
forms, he mediates, equilibrates, he never exagerate. I'm not afraid of atomic bombs but beware and
don't protect an artist with rules of production. That's a process? The proccesses are for lawyers, commited with rules. The rules of a respectable artist is to do a lot o things with so much poor resources, thing tha no one do...
Dixit

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