The Artist and the Entertainer
Conversations with an Ancestor
Art and those sun-kissed by the gods
have always been in the graces of the controllers of the orbit.
That’s what we were taught to believe.
My ancestor told me it didn’t always use to be that way.
She had told me, during our last annual meeting,
that beauty used to be non-commodified.
Art was defiant and elusive.
The artist was nonexistent. It happened on its own, divine inspiration. There were famines, and there were rainy days; it did what it wanted.
I asked her, ‘How did they get in bed with the controllers?’
‘Those sun-kissed by the gods were exploited
by their greatest weakness… they wanted to be seen.
So, the controllers invented fame.
And thus, the artist died that day, and the entertainer was born.’
‘Do you ever think about who controls the controllers?
I mean… how did they become so… powerful?’ I had asked,
and then the flame went out, and I was by myself.
She was gone.
