Archive for January, 2012

You’re Confused

Jan 26 2012 Published by under Uncategorized

What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

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meditation

Jan 25 2012 Published by under Uncategorized

with nothing more to
discover or experience,
no moment of glory

this is it, just me,
poor now as i will ever be.
only a poor artist

the shades of
something greater
retreating to eternity.

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The Art Dealer

Jan 21 2012 Published by under Uncategorized

The Art Dealer despised nothing more than to find himself a victim of some or other local craft fair. Urban or suburban these events were all alike, with their trestle tables laid out in imitation of value, proudly creaking under all of the hokey creativity of the stifled housewife or the desperate schoolteacher. But as there appeared to be no escape from such symptoms of cultural poverty and dereliction, one inevitably discovering onesself to be once again in the very midst of it all, it seemed that there must be no solution but to submit to the exhausted rituals of such affairs with all possible dignity. And deep within, The Art Dealer flattered himself with the fantasy that he might find himself The Discoverer of The Next Big Thing. A moment of Eternity! is all we are looking for; and after all, even when nothing else remains, always remains hope.

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rapunzel

Jan 21 2012 Published by under Uncategorized

when i was a boy my hair was thick curly chestnut.
everyone called me by it and wanted to touch it.
but then in a terrible accident i lost all of my hair.
it tried to grow back midnight black and straight.
but it couldnt completely and it became discouraged.
it became more and more discouraged over time.
and it gave up more and more on ever coming back.
they told me not to worry and to just play pretend.
but that is not who i wanted to be so i shaved it off.
and it returns to me in my dreams glossy as raven.

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pure art

Jan 19 2012 Published by under Uncategorized

regarding a music that is unlike for example opera not about anything other than itself an art for its own sake and how this can be achieved in literature specifically such as say the novel about suicide in which the protagonist suicides and following publication author also suicides such as sylvia plath lets not get carried away in any overparticular digression here or that edouard leve which attracted me and existence as an entirety of devotion to these intertwining processes of life and art even perhaps only one almost insignificant grain of sand what becomes questionable is several matters in fact being that whether these things are worthwhile here while it is to a great extent now taken for granted that these expressions are absolutely necessary to the progression for lack of a better word of knowledge as begrudgingly funded by the behoven state through all forms of university disciplines perhaps in some places more than others where we foolishly expect the market to take care of such matters but why so questionable and how there is barely any way out of this maze of interrogation when all of these terms assert their own conflicted senses and so that even ultimately the question of progress is at stake in anything at all but we have to forget that only what must be grasped is the potential of these matters for rather than as the finality and closure of suicide to be open ready fluid and moving outward and toward and whether this is even possible or purity can only be proven in termination and but of course the whole point of it being that art is inherently good and requires no justification.

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like a spider spinning web

Jan 18 2012 Published by under Uncategorized

in my front yard we watched a spider spinning her web. [this point insert anecdote relating details of own abortive attempts to capture video footage] very lovely spider like miniature garden orb of sorts she crawls inward along each strand to reach step across to the next and then back along outward to reattach her spiral labyrinth there,

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actors not liars but artists

Jan 05 2012 Published by under Uncategorized

i thought of painting a miniature. one of those girls [young lady] swathed in white cotton and straw hat, riding boots to guard against snakebite, indistinctly present in wildflower field next to a eucalypt tract, where perhaps it has rained not too long ago and the world is still freshly exhaling its moistened breath. suspended blurrily in the light which is in intensity on the boundary between early morning clarity or afternoon bashfulness and in the long brown grass strands with the bumblebees butterflies and splotches of elegantly pretty blossoms. the summer haze of her moment here is framed within the firmness of the more finely delineated distance, where a few sheep or cattle graze on lush paddock, and her hundredyear ancient farmhome reaches forth its tendril of smoke, and things remember something of the special knack of discriminating between one another. [insufficient description with missing central elements]

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