Where Art Is Made
We are builders, makers, hopers, doers.
From clunkers and junkers,
out of shards and clay,
we shape and frame, sort and stir.
Each of us turning grime into gold.
Against fence and lock,
a door swings, a window opens,
a sunflower reaches for a fresh day.
Everything is always growing.
Dirt dusts places not yet alive
and in this gravel of possibility,
we honor the old and worn, the faded and frail,
know that good bones are worth holding.
Deep against rock, trains clack and roll,
we press into paper, scissors and paint,
splattered, gathered, mixed.
With each ding-ding-ding, solid freight
floats our dreams and we clatter, wide awake
in dark, in light, in love and hope.
The day opens, the sky widens, you are here.
Hand in hand, arm in arm, each grip
is a dare to you declared:
Breathe, work, sear and sculpt.
Sew and hold, paint and saw.
Mix and mingle. Break rules, break ground.
Create your self, your world, your now.
On the bridge of progress, we dance and dive,
wonder, wander, taste and make.
With each how and why and what next?
we dig in and reach out
to build in the mind,
a step, a ladder, another sky.
Let’s scaffold the unknown.
In every thing, promise.
— Drew Myron
"Where Art Is Made" by Futuristic Films
For the River North Art District (RiNo) in Denver, Colorado
Conceived by Tracy Weil, RiNo Co-Founder/Creative Director
Narrated by Toluwanimi Obiwole, Denver's first Youth Poet Laureate (2015)
Poem by Drew Myron