Thursday 24 November 2011

Am I crazy?

As to see ideas and possibilities as opportunities?

Fuck. It ires me. Am I mad or is it psychiatry. What the fuck is being treated? Why aren't there real treatments?

I need a spliff. This shit stinks.

Our human race is beautiful but not so in our homogeniousnessness. Our conformity and similarity are useful but...a rainbow is many colours and that's why it is beautiful.

I...I grow weary. I am fighting for a painter to see all colours as useful. As valuable. As meaningful and with purpose to a scene.

This metaphor isn't true though. I would never have to have this conversation with a painter.

Fuck.

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About Me

We It comes in part from an appreciation that no one can truly sign their own work. Everything is many influences coming together to the one moment where a work exists. The other is a begrudging acceptance that my work was never my own. There is another consciousness or non-corporeal entity that helps and harms me in everything I do. I am not I because of this force or entity. I am "we"