Tuesday, November 13, 2012
When I listen to a song or look at a ainting or read a poem I think of the process that took place before the song or the painting or the poem was created. It makes me think of a woman getting dressed. She uses body lotion first, atiperspirant second, puts on her lace panties and bra, pulls on a fresh pair of jeans, a nice T-shirt, some funky jewelery, slinky high hills. She applies make up and finally puts perfume behind her ears and dabs a little in her cleavage. She is now ready to face the world. Off course I know not all women do these things. At least not all of them and not in the same order. It all depends on where they are going, what they will be doing or who they will be seeing. When I begin to paint, I have a core concept, it's vague and doesn't have a form. As I explore my feelings more, I start choosing colors. The first brush strokes are pure emotion and I can't stop until I'm spent. Then I take a step back and look at it anew. If it satisfies me I'm done, but sometimes I feel it's not finished so I add touches that complete my though. I won't stop until I feel that I have expressed my core idea and the vague feeling is not vague anymore.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Morning coffee, cigarette, check emails, check home phone messages, cell phone voice messages, check Facebook, check twitter, collect snail mail. Nothing vitally important, earth shattering, or remotely amusing. Feeling bored, blaze, disgusted, and lonely. These are the times we live in. Connected to our world yet disconnected from humanity.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Truth be told sometimes I hate myself. I can understand others better than I can understand myself. What I don't understand about myself is why I'm never satisfied. I do whatever I please most of the time. I talk to my family, I visit them, I see friends, I keep myself busy doing anything that strikes my fancy. I read, paint, garden, cook, eat, swim. I'm connected to friends via Facebook, I read world news, I know whats going on in general, I follow subjects that interest me. But, and this is the big but, I'm never satisfied. I keep wanting something I don't know what it is. I feel hungry for something, thirsty. I keep thinking about this missing substance but I can't put my finger on it. But there is still this missing link that keeps me unfulfilled, yearning, homesick for this unknown matter.