Full of life
A monologue by the personified dream
Silent things are not for conquering
Sense is the seeing, believing, the touching, tasting, the being
On many occasions I have tried to find the moment of ‘solitude’ that directors write into desolate scenes. Believing that we are all thoroughly interconnected, I have found it utterly impossible to feel alone, however, or even marginally dissatisfied in the company of strangers. Thoughts inspired by Marx and Hegels documents on art and being as a social entity.
In nature: Our own revealed
A moment of self-awareness captured through an intentionally monochrome description of love.
Deciphering the heart: distinguishing between fairytales and futures.
Moral questioning: on the battle of guilt and forgiveness of the self.
Becoming every colour can leave us gray, when the lights go down
An indulgent slur of exasperated egoism and every day self-inflation/deflation which I will probably edit forever
Are these clothes the colour of my insides? Are yours?
We seek the sight of others; a vision of their corporeal being, manifested within their music/their letters/their circles. Flora and I make shapes out of all of our insides and arrive, sometimes, at something synonymous – but never symmetrical. This is the first time that we have aligned our work, and we hope that you love it too! Thank you for reading and listening; for watching the spirals sing with us.
We wander away and wind up, with hope, submerged in a mirror spirit.
Originally posted on Creative Mine:
4/15/2022 I’m really only writing this because Anna said I’d go crazy out here if I didn’t. I don’t know, might just lose it anyway. It’s good to be writing again, though. Never thought I’d say that. Then again, I didn’t expect any of this to happen. Though, for all…
via Spray Paint
The chapter on burning and touching
Premise: we are thriving off the lives that criss-cross around us, leaving paper trails.