I am indeed Artist!

The Artist seeks answers to life's questions
The Artist asks the questions of the answers that are given
The Artist then looks for depth in the shallows, and shallows in the depth

But the Artist is not what the Artist seems
For this Artist is never one and the same; always changing, confusing, wandering
And therein, in that chaos, in that imbalance, lies the Artist's power

How else would the Artist create if the Artist was always the same Artist?
Would such wonders be possible if anyone could understand the Artist?
Can these marvels be grasped and held, yet even the Artist cannot fathom them?

So now, those who wish to know the Artist are troubled, for they cannot hold on to this dream
They therefore fight the dream, not knowing that it is a beautiful, life-changing dream
Like in creating and being created; being born through pangs, into a new life

In being reborn, they too become Artists
But they must accept the pain of breaking molds and casts and boundaries
They must listen to the earth's raw sounds and see and feel it's rough, bare textures

These demands are harsh
But they line the path to the core of being, 
This is the way of the Artist