• Creation plays by its own drum, balancing the scales. I am but a speck on my isolated road. There’s the world’s heartbeat, but mine beats differently. I am selfish; is that where I go wrong?
  Art restores my connection. Art reminds me to be humble. Art is my gift of union. When there is art, there is but one collective being. And I am it. And I am nothing. When I swim in art, I drown, and I am the water and its waves.
  Artist = Instrument Of Creation
  Art = Window To God
• Life shows me what I need to see, gives me what I need to have, takes what I need to let go.
• The only intelligent way to live is to surrender because how can I — a minute drop of creation — see the bigger picture?
  The greater good is the only good.

They'd Call Me 'Artist' In America:

Panic this, panic that.

Just an everyday Wednesday.

Connect the dots, looking back.

Pity me, Wednesday.

Waxing philosophic, someday iconic, an enigma - I am, I am, I am.

Poetic pursuits, idiot of creation, tied up like glue - I am, I am.

A highway, gateway, door to a nation that nobody knows - I am, I am.

Humble servant, giant fool, tortured soul.

They’d Call Me ‘Artist’ In America.

Panic this, panic that.

Just an everyday Wednesday.

When it works, it really works.

When it doesn’t, it doesn’t - stay in the game!

Waxing philosophic, someday iconic, an enigma - I am, I am, I am.

Poetic pursuits, idiot of creation, tied up like glue - I am, I am.

A highway, gateway, door to a nation that nobody knows - I am, I am.

Humble servant, giant fool, tortured soul.

They’d Call Me ‘Artist’ In America.

Songs

Books

Articles

Lila Tace