— where to with the negated tears?
— repeat —
between the realm of the thought, the philosophical, intellectual, that of the rational inclinations, desires and the realm of the spirit, of the soul, of the all encompassing nothing, and the miniscule totality, needless of being tangible, yet tuned to the true sense of rivers somewhere in between to the touch of both life has… Continue reading Life, adjusted, again
The past, and the next second, the experience, and the hunger, joy, and its intermittent absence, everything, everything seems to be the resilience which demands repetition, not to preserve life but to live it — in composed sounds, in uttered words and their placement, in the gentle push to invest mind, spirit, and flesh, even… Continue reading Repetition is a form of change
From the myriad I have seen, about a million encountered, thousands spoken to, hundreds spoken with, and from the dozens I love, the desire seems to be freedom, toiling towards security, hoping for peace, aspiring redemption, and believing in paradise. I simply am, repeatedly finding myself in the middle of beauty
When a kiss vibrates from lips onto a cheek, onto other lips, onto willing hands, in love When a caress softens the caressing hand, and the touched When with eyes and pelvis a body in penetration shakes, do not take it personally. Sharing signs of love happens from one towards another. And yet, love itself… Continue reading Love is not personal
It would be unfair. They might kill you. The cobbler does not know me, and I know not of him. Yet, I wear them in sincerity.
In society — of the animal, of the spirit, of culture — amongst all its members, the artist is one of the few working daily with the raw beauty and raw challenge of being in life, while inspired to digest, express, and share it.
Everything begins in the mind I assert All is in the mind wanting to be But what of it if it does not feel contained by a body?
One may utter a long list or a single point, when asked about the essence of the self, or about the naked self, or the projection of self. And, just like in singing and speaking one hears not what the room acoustically gives but rather how one owns body lets one hear, one may ask… Continue reading Occurrences in the Self of an auto-portrait
— I am Not here, not now, not eternally to show evidence of my perpetual being to others Not eternal to count eternity Not even to myself In being I am eternal Challenge not my measurement nor lack of it Ask me not I we are the same I am eternal for being
… but be conscientious about what you are leaving behind — daily.
These days are energy, inspiration —-No! energy —- period!Here is an inner confidence in claiming that inspiration is a constant. It comes from all around, it comes in memories waiting to be re-unpacked, occasionally unpacked for the very first instance. It happens in any moment of passive, and wild, and deep observation of whatever flew… Continue reading god missing himself
The last breath will not be a question. There will be nothing to ask in the midst of such symbolic sounds implying a departure is at hand. The last breath will not inquire, for the last breath need not obey.
is not a set goal. I am resolute.I live in resolution.I vibrate in resolution.I fall asleep, and stand awake,stand asleep, and fall awake,not resolute to a goalbut in the trajectory —- that of building.My resolution is not a set goal—- not set, not a state to be reachedbut beinginhaling and exhaling the joy and beautythat… Continue reading My Resolution…
Asking a friend with experience and knowledge on fields of investment, where would he suggest a person to focus who has never invested before, he quickly answered: “Invest in yourself” Weeks ago I heard from another friend: “There is no self” I am now left with the further expansion of being, allowing more to be… Continue reading Self
This concept, this perception mode refers to a reaching out into a realm outside a common structure. I need to point to this common structure, this outside realm, this box: these are not the shape of one self but that of society, either imposed or inspired by social and familiar norm.
Life at sunset likes to bring tears — to the horizon, and to the sun self On the cheeks of the sun setting, they flow differently than on those of them looking at suns setting.Near and far aroundthe horizon turns numb,encapsulated in the sensation of the ceasing of beauty of that sun, or in the… Continue reading Crying at Sunset