The trail, Monsieur, is a decoy. It does not reveal my whereabouts, or my perspective. I could be elsewhere in the terrain where it is dense and dark and dangerous. You would never guess from my notes and messages. I could be escaping from our field of connections, and yet appear to be available, even stable. If you could know what maintaining these appearances cost you might be surprised.
But this is how I deal with my capricious interior.
Even with falling away, I remain close.
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
Some photos and little vids from Thanksgiving up north
Hope you had an enjoyable Thanksgiving! With beautiful, warm weather this year, had a wonderful day with family up north. And, yay! - I also...
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Basquiat at the AGO: An Untitled Portrait When asked about his frequent use of "carbon" (tar, asbestos), Basquiat shot back, ... -
direct link: The Dancer's Backskin An accidental drawing - in a new Moleskine notebook, I brushed water over watercolour pencil. The ...
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Pablo Valdivia, Breathing Underwater translated from the Spanish by Ross Woods Guernica Editions, Fall 2014 102 pages Trade Paperback...
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