Friday, January 24, 2014

I've run out

I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without using pagan words, I remain silent. -Arthur Rimbaud


The alchemy lies in this formula: your memory and your senses are but the nourishment of your creative impulses. -Arthur Rimbaud


I have always wished to make paintings with no color, no line, no form, no nothing.  In fact I have only wished for them to appear miraculously, when I wake in the morning.


People would tell me stories when I was young, and I would wonder what they meant by them, why tell me now, why do I need to hear this story?  


One of the reasons I write these things is simply to slow myself down.  I can't type fast and I am even slower using a pencil…why can't I use a pencil on this computer?  I want to slow myself down in order to force myself to look at these things.


And somehow one always gets to the end. I always find endings to be sad, even though they are often only the beginning of something new.  I don't like new.  It just looks like old.

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