I frequently like my sketches much better than my finished paintings. As mentioned in the previous post, I often prefer not to finish anything because my feeling is that adding more stuff will inevitably ruin it. An example is provided below. I enjoyed looking at this, vague landscape sketch. Leaving room for imagination. Pushed myself … Continue reading Ruining zen sketches on Dec 5
A word a thread words don't render images words don't render sensations, feelings yet, sometimes we can recognise each other when they easily fit. . we can perhaps only see each other, or feel each other without seeing and feeling, words are no bridge when there is seeing and feeling, words are game and play … Continue reading The word
There is no point in rushing oblivion Rushing forgetfulness. The imprint stays stuck in your heart for a while For a reason. An ember, a dried-up stick, half burnt. What's it still doing there, immobile. Seemingly useless. . I think sometimes If it's been thrown in under the right star sign It becomes a crystallisation … Continue reading Axis
Personal reflections on decades of pseudo-nomadism, packing, love, meaning, painting, and generally pretending to have an adventurous and deep life.
I saw clouds of sadness of slowness I was welcoming solitude with a safety net with an "other shore". . I'm not sure why it's so difficult: either I am with you, and then I feel the compulsion to know in each split second what exactly you expect from me, what to say, what to … Continue reading Torn between the company of humans, of nature, of self. Some perhaps autistic perspectives.
I walked out into the woods talking with you one the phone until darkness fell and I had to find my way back with the deer crossing. . So you say you've been a man, just like I've been a woman. Sometimes you still are. I know, I see that duality, although I'm not sure … Continue reading Sabbath of the (trans) witches at the red river
This post is what it says on the can. Relatively relaxing and pensive piano music that I've played last night at 1 am while being completely tired, falling asleep (eyes closed), and not looking at the keys. This seems to be the most fun, to be honest. Just playing with textures, forgetting about harmony or … Continue reading Song played late night with eyes closed. Piano improvisation.
Being me for me always implies some degree of being you. My nature doesn't come with built-in walls and noise cancellation and convenient, numb dampening. It must be comfortable to be cushioned, exposed largely only to your own thoughts. I can do that if i am alone in the forest. Or if i live very … Continue reading Being you
You are beautiful. there's some beauty, fragile like snow in between gestures and silence. your presence absorbs screams and grating sounds like sand absorbs raindrops. you lead me back to zero. . you lead me back to your zero. i hook my psi radar to it and i am calm or happy for a few … Continue reading snowflakes in august, springs of the clockwork