On the (Human) Art of Nature / Zur (Menschlichen) Kunst der Natur / Respecto al Arte (Humano) de la Naturaleza

Enamored with poetry, with art and
the creative expression of the terrestrial mind.
I die without writing.
Without lyricism, the world just is not.
Without music or movement, why even be?
I love art.
But what is it?
This question tears me up inside.
Who is Art?
A Goddess, or
merely a simple human being?

Sound coming from the smartphone distorted distinctly by the wind. Is the music that I'm hearing real? Or is it but a figment of human imagination? For, as a human being, one never dreams alone. Everything is something someone sometime somewhere imagined. Who imagined all this? A goddess or a god?
The cup was surely made thanks to the desire of people past dreaming while cupping their hands to hold water, berries or seeds. Dreaming of holding water, berries and seeds beyond their hands. Who put the cup on the Platonic shelf of concepts? A concept that continues to create countless forms for holding substances beyond cupping human hands. What goddess or god dreamt up the concept called *cup*? Dreamt up shelters that have taken humans beyond forests, trees and caves? Who first dreamt of the comfort of running water or deliciously seasoned food? Who yearned for cool in the heat and warmth in the cold? We all have, haven't we? Not unlike Nature herself with her rivers, hot springs, pools, fires and caves. Have we humans merely desired to be like Her and create our visions, our versions of waterflow, light, matter, heat, cold, birth, destruction, day and night? And who imagined water, fire, metal, wind, wood and stone? Please tell me. Who?

"Grandmother Moon" - Pinterest

Verliebt in die Poesie, in die Kunst und
in den kreativen Asudruck des irdischen Geistes.
Ohne Schrift sterbe ich.
Ohne Lyrik ist die Welt einfach nicht.
Ohne Musik, ohne Bewegung warum bin ich?
Ich liebe die Kunst.
Aber was ist sie?
Diese Frage zerreist mich innerlich.
Wer ist die Kunst?
Eine Göttin, oder
bloss ein stinknormaler Mensch?

Enamorada de la poesia, del arte y
de la expresión creativa de la mente terrenal.
Sin escritura me muero.
Sin el lirismo no hay mundo.
Sin música, sin moviemento ¿para qué ser?
Amo el arte.
¿Pero qué es?
Esta pregunta me desgarra por dentro.
¿Quien es Arte?
¿Una Diosa, o
simplemente un ser humano común y corriente?