LÍO

Johnny Tuturro
Lio (One)
Published in
2 min readJan 28, 2023

Life’s a journey.

The destination determines the outcome.

We live to die, yet we’re dying to live…

…But in the end, we all die.

Death is a never ending adventure; a ride out of the void, a portal through the dimensions into another eternal realm, awakening us to our final fate, regardless of where we go, come from or what we’ve been through.

It doesn’t discriminate because at the end of the day, we all bleed the same blood. We all meet the same end. We all go through the same cycle; it repeats itself over and over again, until humanity is no more.

In order to cope with our inevitable fate, some people turn to art to numb the pain. To forget about what has been, what is to come and absorb the moment; experience it, live in it, enjoy life. To Record it. To look back on it. To see growth in the form of decay.

Art has this amazing power to make people feel certain things, depending on its style and mood; melancholy, somber, sadness, joy, saudade. It comes in many different forms, fluidly telling a million different stories from unlimited perspectives.

There is no “box” in art. It’s a blank canvas; it’s a freedom of self expression.

A medium of the soul; the ultimate reflection of times gone by, a snapshot of history. It changes as culture evolves. And when culture stops evolving, art will freeze and become a forgotten relic of a time past when people recorded the growth, decline and thriving peaks of civilisation.

To erase society is to erase art; to erase art is to erase society as know it.

One cannot co-exist without the other.

The illusion of death may reveal our darkest secrets; our deepest motivations, and our twisted psyches to the living but we never really die, even when we exit the world as we know it. Our souls stay intertwined within the atmosphere as we’re catapulted into the unknown.

The blood may dry from our bodies, our brains may stop working; we may go back to the dust from which we were formed, but we never cease to exist, just like the artful beauty around us, however it might evolve.

For as long as the living dead, misfits, and insane geniuses may walk amongst us, long may they continue to create masterpieces that will only be fully appreciated from the moment that they orbit into another dimension.

Let your colours run into a river of mayhem; make a mess that no one will forget and don’t forget to make the world a better place in the process.

Harlequin’s Carnival by Joan Miró

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