There has to be a place where I can stash things that I like, that I would like to keep or share. Without logic or reason, a flowing ream of collectibles, be it self-scribbles or works blatantly borrowed. Thoughts, verse, sights, sounds, each to be whimsically vibrant, eclectic, joyously effervescent, introspective, scathingly incisive, or deeply nostalgic, but always moving. This is to be it.
Word for sound (begins @second 1.09) Locked entwirling
streaming spools of sky
melting in harmony
bursting prussian fuschia
making own floor
hypnotic
endlessly swirling.
No comments:
Post a Comment