#WritingPrompt: how platforms shape writing and storytelling
How It Breathes
Some sort of poetry-hybrid(?) that just kind of… happened.
Watch the words move
from one place to another
— changed but not changed.
Picked up
rearranged
And this is how art lives. How it breathes. Passing from one form to the next in this eternal dance of synapses and star stuff.
Adaptations and discussions and reimaginings and formatting and interpretations and referrals and oxygen applied to language through the filter of hands, brains, voices… mine, yours, those who came before, those who will come after… all, none.
It becomes something bigger than itself, something that is forever morphing, growing, transcending the confines that once it was given —a life unlike any other.
All and nothing — a life that was never born and can never die
And oh, how it dances.
(— Don’t you love that dance?
You do it so well)
It passes like an inorganic progeny, raised by all and created by none. This dancing fabric of breathing art. The patterns of the universe…
