Don't run my lovedon't run from that quietude, embrace this silence — without it our voices could not carry, let it be the canvas on which we paint our lives. Take this cell for example. Its birth is violence, its product; beauty. Can you keep it. Can you hold the bursting. Hold it like the [...]
We had a family art night where we tried out an acrylic pour technique and these are the results.
Sometimes I might buy an onion, or two, just to have out on the counter-top. Ode to the Onion by Pablo Neruda
His old job as a machinist: settingup coordinates and watching the laser cuttingthrough sheet-metal, inhis voice a longing, or love.He liked that kind of work because it required precision (by him or by the machine, I'm not sure). How admirable. Is there a more desirable asset than precision? A trait I've never had, sloppy artist [...]
I'm having dreams again, or rather I'm remembering them. Hold my breath, don't dare tell anyone, in case they disappear. Up in a puff of smoke. Who's that Italian broad, ran around with Andy Warhol? she was there. Sophia Loren? nah, fashion designer or something. While adjusting her garter she told me, work. work. work. [...]
The only good drawings he's managed to come up with over the passed few years, are the one's in which he started with nothing. No plan. No concept, no idea of where he would go with it. Start with a few lines. Experiment with technique and try his damnedest to fight those inner demons, which, [...]