speaking to myself

Like earthworms, whose lives are spent making more earth, we human beings also spend ourselves into the physical.  A few of us leave behind objects judged, at least temporarily, worthy of preservation by the culture into which we were born.  The process is, however, the same for us all. Ordered into the physical, in time we leave the physical, and leave behind us what we have made in the physical. -Anne Truitt

So for the most part I am talking to myself.   It's just how it is.  Nobody else really comes here.  Its just me visiting me and that's about it.  So the things I talk about are the things that seem satisfying to me whatever they may be.  Though it is mostly memory -as it pops up actually.   Not some -Now I will Remember...cause that doesn't work at all…And actually, I don't know that I have a good memory.  Like most people, things just come to me.

I wish I could remember more of the things I wrote about my mom and dad that month after she died.   Those things were a terrible loss for me.  Sorry -what I mean is both the theft of those paintings and her death was a terrible loss.  I had inserted original photographs and notes, their signatures, stuff that cannot mean anything to someone else except as the pleasure of causing loss…That itself seems perverse to me.

But those paintings are gone at least for now.  Maybe they will pop up sometime when the thief is caught for some other crime.

I really should probably be getting somewhere what with all these notes.  Some revelation some insight that could send me on trip through the channels of the eternal ethereal world.  And I could come back with a renewed and new outlook.

Yep that would be cool though I doubt that can happen.  I am afraid I am to earth bound and too circumspect in my intellect.  But you can always wish hey?  Take me through the diaphanous membrane of the world and teach me the way to live to express to relate.

The truth is I will be happy if only my paintings can speak honestly.  I prefer their language.  Mine should be obliterated.  In fact that is what I may be trying to do with my painting.