On the nature of making art

May 15, 2015 § Leave a comment



I have tried to put something into words, here. Using a language that I can only hope might extend beyond the limitations of our truncated vernacular.

I have extended this fragile, green tender shoot of myself out into the open air… Curious, and inquiring. 
I hold out this hand, and invite you to jump in the hopes that you see something familiar.
Outside of this consented reality exists a wildness and a knowing that we never left behind. I beg you to remember, & to remember with me…
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Art is a drug

May 1, 2015 § Leave a comment

Rage and despair are both muses that carry a whip…

Desperation rides in on the tailcoats of deadlines and pressure with the torch, setting fire to all the superfluous.

Final presentation is the agonizing ecstasy of the rib cage being opened, the heart being removed, and the pressure is finally released. A birth accompanied by an orgasm…

Exposure to the public reveals the child that has come forth. Stunning in its beauty, and disbelief that this could have possibly come from you.

Postpartum depression comes in quickly to close the gap. A blanket of gray to shroud the vessel. It beckons the dishes to be done, the floor to be swept.

And the meditation of what the hell did you just do and why would you ever do that again.

Art is a drug…

Where Am I?

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