New Poetry. Thoughts while reading the book "Wild Man".
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If My Body Were Paper and Bones
My imagination took hold of my senses and as I felt the paper I began to wonder about our bodies, our lives here. We are but flesh and bones. Our bodies are broken, torn, weathered and fleeting. I imagined I was paper, a scultpure of paper and bones.
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The Night Feeding Me.
I can not seem to escape what these colors seem to be doing to me in a mentally arousing mix of hues. I have moved forward from my stencil work that has brought me mild success over the last few years and felt led to take a few risks entering back into abstract forms, strokes and flow.
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Impatient raging.
So, there are specific days that jump out at me every now and then where emotions seem uncontrolable. Days where the only refuge is found in a blank canvas, paint and brushes. Well, today is one of those days and escaping to my place of solice is just out of reach. I have returned to Austin, TX (home) after being on the road for an extended time and I won't have a space for 3 more weeks. I could feel everything building from the moment my eyes opened and my head lifted from my pillow, I tried to fight it and distance myself from the impatient rage building inside. After 36 years I should realize that I can't hide from who I am or how I was created. So I went to find a quiet place to write, listen and be. At least until I can calm down, relax and exit a few tears and thoughts.
Here is the music that is filling or drowning out every other sound around me into oblivion:
Active Child: You Are All I See, Curtis Lane
James Vincent McMorrow: Early In The Morning
Nathaniel Ratliff: In Memory of Loss
Wise Children: Absince & Reunion
Ugly Casanova: 180 South Soundtrack
Timber Timbre: Creep on Creepin' On
City and Colour: Little Hell
Sbtrkt: SBTRKT
The Jezabels: Dark Storm, She's So Hard, The Man Is Dead