RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Wednesday, June 12

SONG OF THE DAY: Didn't I?



So many gods of dirt out here, making magic out of emptiness, building art in every direction pointing outwards because that’s how the unrestrained human heart works.
DIDN’T I TREAT YOU RIGHT, NOW? DIDN’T I?
Folks too busy living and creating and being natural born artists in the way all humans was meant to be, adding blossoms of thought to the dreary land that’s been scaped into shape by inhumane master plans which somehow built fences around us all while we was too busy being occupied. Life without all these blossoms of expression from all the folks that couldn’t be stopped from being true human in the non-manufactured ways… it’d be unbearable without that artistic medication.
DIDN’T I DO THE BEST I COULD? DIDN’T I?
And how many of these folks, like Dynamite D Darondo the Bay Area street hustler who likely did ugly things to survive this western world, but also gave the world immense beauty as well, albeit in obscurity because it never got held up at proper marketing angle for the shineface world of material consumption to recognize as legitimate… how many of these folks are seen as illegitimate because authenticity is decided by pre-determined algorithm of wealth which holds the keys to the gates and decides what is worth your attention and what is not? Out here making beautiful sense of this nonsense pyramid scam we all done got trapped underneath of, whether y’all know it or not.
DIDN’T I GIVE YA EVERYTHING? DIDN’T I?
Darondo died of heart attack half a decade ago, and only now is his music circulating to a wider audience, after he’s gone. A lifetime spent creating, for the most part unseen, but steady doing it because that’s all he knew how to do. The art don’t stop being beautiful even if the creator is gone, but damn, I often wonder what kinda world we’d have if we supported these people while they were alive. Would they have done more? Bigger and wilder things? Or would they have crashed under the weight of too much light? Of having to navigate manicured spaces where you can’t hide in the tall grasses of the margins?
I TRIED MY BEST JUST TO BE A MAN. DIDN’T I?

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