Translate

Monday, March 12, 2012

Mon amie la rose

footfalls echo in the memory
down the passage which we did not take
towards the door we never opened. -t.s. elliot,"burnt norton" from four quartets
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NV8X7Dvn9Co&feature=related

cages

here's a prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages- tennessee williams

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Recent Thoughts

I create work to know I exist.  To leave my mark.  TO take someone outside of themselves, or into themselves for just a little.  Whichever is best and To not being alone 



I find I am so caught up in what I did or did not say. The things I could have done or should of.

To in turn beable to let go

I find construction just as interesting as destruction.  I find it interesting that how ever much we build ourselves up or how ever much we live, life could be over in an instant. To thinking that when our memory fades from someones mind, we die. To feel like there are two different people within yourself, and to wondering which one will you be for that minute, hour or day.



The terrifying thought that we don’t exist, there is no one thing to define us.  We ourselves are voided spaces.

I find I hold out for those brief glimmering moments when reality itself is the most beautiful thing you could ever conceive in the world. When you no longer have to view the world covered in mist. To draw attention to those little places or spaces that people would never know existed.



Why is it that people who claim to be fatalists still look both ways when they cross the street.

That no matter how much you tell someone that you love them, you would still leave them.

To feeling forever displaced.

to knowing that everything you’d thought you’d wanted, you have absolutely no use, need, or want for.

To be heartbreakingly beautiful. And wanting to be alive.

To know that its ok to not know. Its all about feeling. And to not be so afraid of feeling primal.