Art Was the Great Leveler They met at a party given by mutual friends – people named Fortune. She always liked that part of the story. They were both painters who loved nothing more than to pack up their watercolor gear and hike into the local mountains to paint landscapes. She was young and captivated by his charm and impressed with his brash, unschooled talent. Which side of town they were from wasn’t a big enough issue to keep them apart. To keep them apart. Art was the great leveler and an emotional connection formed. Art was the great leveler long before it was common to assess personalities, long before people were talking about other people’s personalities in terms of why such attractions developed. It would be rationalized based on their mutual interest in art, art and hiking. Art was the great leveler. Art was the great leveler. There was something else there. A dance. A dance, of sorts. A dance. They were doing a dance – one in which it was difficult to tell just by looking who was leading and who was following. Art was the great leveler. Art was the great leveler. They regularly heaved out an arsenal of verbal weaponry to defend and protect the mysteries of their deficiencies from possible detection. Impossible detection was their goal. Impossible detection was their goal. Impossible detection was their goal. Art was the great leveler. Art was the great leveler. They hid as much as they exposed. They hid as much as they exposed.

What’s Your Name? When you’ve taken your hands away from your eyes from your face from your mouth – what do you see? What do you say? What is your name now? What is your name now that you can see, that you can speak, not looking, not at me, now that you can see? What is your name now that you can speak? When you’ve taken your hands away from your eyes, from your face, from your heart – what do you feel? What do you say now that you feel? What is your name? What is your name? Now that you see? Now that you feel? Now that you speak? What do you say? What do you say? What is your name?

Wasn’t Said Look ahead to the time when you’ve forgotten all that was said when you look behind and it doesn’t matter anymore Look ahead — it’s hard to want to go there now that’s where you’re heading that’s what you’re waiting for it’s what you’re waiting for that time, when you’re looking behind you and none of this will matter all of this confusion will be so far in the past it won’t matter in the now In the now that’s still ahead Looking ahead to when none of this is gonna matter how it went and what was said and what wasn’t said To make this void of no communication no communication no communication now there’s nothing now There’s nothing now but to look ahead when none of this will matter what was and wasn’t said It wasn’t said