Digging through books with explicit illustrations.
These are the things that remind us all that as human beings have souls. Because they move you. At the same time, do you feel love? Fear? Dismay?
The artist is trying to say something in every picture. Mind you, there are no words to accompany these pictures. They're in real-time. Almost like pastel colored photographs. You can even taste them without making contact. This gallery.
You set the book on your stove. Set it to six and watch it burn and for what? Because you couldn't understand it so why keep it? Why not just throw it away? Let it find its way to a stranger. Maybe they could interpret it better than you could?
You snap back to reality. Holding this masterpiece in your hands, you put it closer to the light. There are children dancing in the lines. You see a human heart. You see a young man on his knees in the alley behind a bar, vomiting onto the street. But it's all one collective thing: Two people sitting underneath a tree with a heart carved into it. Then you think...
"Why couldn't he have drawn himself as a young man? An eligible bachelor who went through a slew of women? Ten women in line in front of the threshold behind a closed door. They're mostly fixing their make-up, wearing nice dresses that'll just end up being wrinkled on his floor. What's the use?"
Then you think some more...
"Why couldn't he have painted how he felt when he met the girl in the picture? The time and place were perfectly right. It's such a beautiful coincidence."
Because you can only see what he wants you to see. Because you see, artists are the best at telling white lies and half truths. But you can tell with every penstroke, brush stroke. You can find it in the words. But...
Does it really matter?
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
1:52 AM
There's something about the feeling you get after it rains. When it's pouring down outside it seems like the world stops. Nothing exists outside of the room you're in. Everything outside is another place, another world that you don't even care to think about. You're on the couch reading a book, or in bed holding your loved one close in silence as the water hits the window. You check outside every now and then. Just a quick glance to see if it's still pouring but it doesn't change a thing. You're holed up under the roof so that you don't catch a cold. So that your shoes don't get soaken wet. Your clothes.
Some people have ponchos or rain jackets. Some people put on hats and open up umbrellas. They usually go out into the world with disdain. But in some cases, there's a lovely couple who loves to go out in the storm and dance in the street in whatever they're wearing. They kiss in the rain and it's a scene from a romance movie that everyone wishes that could attain.
I remember being the child who was always caught out in the rain. In the yard playing with my toys. When it started to drip down I gave no thought to it. Not until it started to pour and I would run through the yard, up the stairs to the porch and through the door that my mother was holding open. A screen door. In a way I would retreat. I would find respite in the comfort of my home. I would take off my clothes and hang them on the shower rod above the bathtub and I would throw my shoes in the dryer.
"Clunk clunk! Clunk Clunk!"
After everything is said and done, though, the world feels so new. When you're looking out your window with raindrops still clinging for dear life so it seems from the top of the pane and you go out into the yard and the trees are still soaked and dripping so it feels like a light rain. When the dirt on the ground is drying up and the drops on the car make steam as they evaporate. The world feels new. As if it has been cleansed of something and it's time to start all over.
The couple who was dancing in the street goes back inside and they're the ones sleeping. The ones who were sleeping wake up and take the car, perhaps for dinner and a movie. The child goes back out in the yard to play in his sandbox so that he can make sandcastles with the dampened sand.
Everyone seems to wait for this to happen when it rains. It doesn't seem like anyone says "It looks like rain" in excitement anymore. Unless there was a dry season or they happen to be a meteorologist.
Sometimes when it storms the power goes out and most of the time it doesn't return until a few hours after it stops. This can be quite the pain at night time. But it's an excuse to light up some candles and sit in a room together.
Some people have ponchos or rain jackets. Some people put on hats and open up umbrellas. They usually go out into the world with disdain. But in some cases, there's a lovely couple who loves to go out in the storm and dance in the street in whatever they're wearing. They kiss in the rain and it's a scene from a romance movie that everyone wishes that could attain.
I remember being the child who was always caught out in the rain. In the yard playing with my toys. When it started to drip down I gave no thought to it. Not until it started to pour and I would run through the yard, up the stairs to the porch and through the door that my mother was holding open. A screen door. In a way I would retreat. I would find respite in the comfort of my home. I would take off my clothes and hang them on the shower rod above the bathtub and I would throw my shoes in the dryer.
"Clunk clunk! Clunk Clunk!"
After everything is said and done, though, the world feels so new. When you're looking out your window with raindrops still clinging for dear life so it seems from the top of the pane and you go out into the yard and the trees are still soaked and dripping so it feels like a light rain. When the dirt on the ground is drying up and the drops on the car make steam as they evaporate. The world feels new. As if it has been cleansed of something and it's time to start all over.
The couple who was dancing in the street goes back inside and they're the ones sleeping. The ones who were sleeping wake up and take the car, perhaps for dinner and a movie. The child goes back out in the yard to play in his sandbox so that he can make sandcastles with the dampened sand.
Everyone seems to wait for this to happen when it rains. It doesn't seem like anyone says "It looks like rain" in excitement anymore. Unless there was a dry season or they happen to be a meteorologist.
Sometimes when it storms the power goes out and most of the time it doesn't return until a few hours after it stops. This can be quite the pain at night time. But it's an excuse to light up some candles and sit in a room together.
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