Thoughts


26
Feb 10

Masochistic Redundancy

Stop. Go. Pause. Go. Stop. Minutes. Hours. Months. Years. Break away from the monotony of your daily routines. Have a cafesito. Enjoy that moment and smile. Life is generous in allowing us to have a routine to break from. Equalize and keep going until the next.


17
Dec 09

Soul Cruising

Head throbbing, beats racing…
Lights flash overhead, wind pouring over
Streaks flashing creating threads of light
Black tar sticking to the soul of my machine
Faster, click, sit back, feel the moment take over
No one near, everyone past
The wake of my being washing over the city
The journey known, trance-like with no thoughts
You start and end in one instant, the moment is over.

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16
Dec 09

Grains of Life

As the moon follows the contours of her soul. The stars shimmer as they sparkle on the glistening moisture of her lips.

Supple hands trace the satin nature of her hair. The strands falling as if cascades of water lapping over the steps of her fingers.

Her back feels the cool tingle of sand.

She gazes in the dark. Seeking insight from the void and the voice of vastness that echoes off the waves on the shore.

For a moment there is nothing and captured in that nothing is..

Everything…

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16
Dec 09

The artist…

Longing spreads like wild fire in the mind of a repressed artist. Living a life were responsibility takes precedence over contemplation and creation, they seek stimulation and connections to drive their creations. There is a difference between the curator and the creator and those whom have repressed their desire to create.

The curator, the self proclaimed expert, trained to actualize the good from the bad, the poorly executed from the honed skill. The creator, whom practices daily, makes it their responsibility, their livelihood. The repressed whom only create when there are no curators and no responsibility seeking their attention. The repressed may never practice for years but when applied to create, may make such masterpieces of emotion and passion that the skilled artist may attempt for years to attain and the curator may never realize the difference.

It’s that the repressed artist, self judged, that practices their craft in the minds eye. Ever seeking knowledge, experiences, joy and hardship to sharpen the ability to make connections from all that is around them. The repressed are those whom loose themselves in a song, take pen to paper and scribble a thought or doodle that no other may see, or set the stage of a deep philosophical conversation. The lack and need of an audience, which is the doing and un doing of the repressed. Fear of failure of imperfection. The tingle of pride after success. The repressed is the curator and the creator in one neatly created and engineered contraption. Like cardboard box strung with rubber bands in its interior holding and teasing the object within.

For whom do we create… for whom do we contemplate… for what is art in any form? what value does it really have to the creator or audience? Silly humanity..

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20
Nov 09

Patterns

Life is a set of patterns. Ideals and fantasies allow us to escape those patterns. They give us the energy to keep fighting, attain the unattainable. Love, success, happiness, emotions sometimes set to a routine. Routines that challenge the crystalline nature of decisions, lead into new patterns. What happens when you discover those patterns? Do they make you wiser, smarter, more intuitive. Yes, but they also create boredom, they make every situation more challenging. You seek to know the patterns, you get discouraged that they appear with such frequency. Our world would not be here if people settled for a pattern. Choice is not a pattern. Life is made up of an illusion which resides at every step and every moment. Discouraged and understood, patterns are the contradiction of attaining and maintaining happiness.


12
Nov 09

Throw life a curve ball.

When life throws a curve ball at you, throw one back. So many obstacles, nothing is ever smooth sailing when it comes to living one’s life. More interesting to me is the relativity of our obstacles, a millionaire cannot compare the hardship of a shoeless orphan in a third world country, but that same orphan cannot fathom the turmoil of a trust fund heiress. We make our own obstacles, problems and torments. If we could see past our own harness that keeps us upon the known path, then could learn to enjoy the bumps of a country road. There is more to enjoy in finding a beautiful clearing on a difficult hike, than to see the same old S#$t eveyone else gets to experience.

Forget the problems, embrace them, overcome them, observe them, and learn to enjoy the challenge.