People exist in the universe and are made of matter and can't stop changing and are unknowable by others. But Art is an imaginary flower that never fades. Neither real nor unreal, but the Dreamtime or the everywhen. ![image.png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmaGu2Az1ALpF2h2PmBW57Jszy4xbvQ7FY95f6WwFV1u9k/image.png) The quest for the authentic existence, the visionary experience, the soul-fulfilling moment, the scorn of the inauthentic words, images, and emotions, the problem of the invisible landscape, how do we meet beauty? Beauty is so powerful that if you look directly into it you will die. In the end, its beauty what kills us. Beauty is a great killer! The experience beyond time which brings us nearer to beauty, is the authentic moment, the felt experience, the true existence. ![satorid_infinitecave.png](https://cdn.minds.com/fs/v1/thumbnail/1109883137873489920/xlarge/?jwtsig=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJleHAiOjE1OTM1NjE2MDAsInVyaSI6Imh0dHBzOlwvXC9jZG4ubWluZHMuY29tXC9mc1wvdjFcL3RodW1ibmFpbFwvMTEwOTg4MzEzNzg3MzQ4OTkyMFwveGxhcmdlXC8iLCJ1c2VyX2d1aWQiOiI0NjMyNDQ0NjYwNTI5MzE1OTgifQ.uL4A1Vn-NoVjjE7ZukO6ootPFYJ7FSlPZI0-G8kfyNk) Language is an alien virus, it turns previous eternal things into separate things, lesser versions of reality. ![break1.png](https://images.hive.blog/DQmQwDqKR2XpEwpQkd6n22XK7ghqXL2TkMKRs7g8vr2mgzE/break1.png) If you're not suitable for the dream, you probably won't make it in the future either There is no verb without a noun There is no word without a vision it's all contained in the Dreamtime There is no dream to dream without the dreamer There is no Art to see without out an eternal being Take this Trip with me AlienArtHive, the home of art that has been homeless ever since Kek kicked the poets, shamans, and visionaries out of hyperspace In our new virtual reality, where our physical forms are absent and our disembodied voices emerge from a screen Who is the 'Shaper'? Which way does the weird flow? The memes of our dreams, every unit of chaos that makes the weird the million hands of our existence weave together this eternal synthesis That which is shaped, The shaper carefully crafting the form of weird, molding a rough edge here, a smooth curve there, until the work took on its final cast the moment of NOW We are all hostages to the weird, the day when the forces of chaos would overwhelm us being mysteriously shaped out of vapor trying to capture the essence of something and remember, no matter how virtual you think you are, you are still a living body, made of matter and yet still an eternal luminous being... ![cosmic_satori.png](https://scontent-sjc3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/s960x960/97854463_3184567458435239_909775361506541568_o.jpg?_nc_cat=101&_nc_sid=8024bb&_nc_ohc=AmJVwL_o4W8AX_d8btJ&_nc_ht=scontent-sjc3-1.xx&_nc_tp=7&oh=3cc71f530b6dcb91b44f25b9a9448890&oe=5EEB0254)