just saw brahms at the hollywood bowl, which is like sniffing an angel's flesh in a sulfur factory.
i am in the place behind words. unattachment takes away the need to express. the feelings are there, content as seeds. darwin says the only reason life didnt stay seeds is that the seeds that became something else became more numerous. but i am no longer competing with myself. there is no economy or ecology in me. imagine.
i have been away from purpose and that is lowering me but also letting me process. every environment provides a new context and so, a new identity. the lion in the serengeti and the lion in the zoo and the lion before the industrial revolution. all completely different.
discovered debussy today as if for the first time. so beautiful i cried. i don't do that. not like others who cry like a high note always in reach. i cry like a butterfly that lands on me. it sounded like death, like saying goodbye to everything. 'au revoir, i am going. goodbye life. this was good, a good movie. now i will go out the theater.' as a child i always made a point of turning around once to see the dust-light emanating from the projector. no reminder of the illusion. i just thought it was so lovely. as a child my grandma's paintings moved at night, particularly the faces from the portraits. my grandma put her juju in it. she was also mentally different. i knew at the time that once i became a grown-up, i would lose the ability to see the faces move. i knew reality is elastic insofar as we live our youth.
i have mahler's second now. this tortured angel gathered the sands of heaven and whooshed them over his head. this made sounds that lasted an hour. we call them symphonies. he had enough sand to throw up nine times. he died because that sand was also his hourglass. that is the curse of the ninth. god does not punish composers. he lets them spend heaven's sand.
i am in the place behind words. unattachment takes away the need to express. the feelings are there, content as seeds. darwin says the only reason life didnt stay seeds is that the seeds that became something else became more numerous. but i am no longer competing with myself. there is no economy or ecology in me. imagine.
i have been away from purpose and that is lowering me but also letting me process. every environment provides a new context and so, a new identity. the lion in the serengeti and the lion in the zoo and the lion before the industrial revolution. all completely different.
discovered debussy today as if for the first time. so beautiful i cried. i don't do that. not like others who cry like a high note always in reach. i cry like a butterfly that lands on me. it sounded like death, like saying goodbye to everything. 'au revoir, i am going. goodbye life. this was good, a good movie. now i will go out the theater.' as a child i always made a point of turning around once to see the dust-light emanating from the projector. no reminder of the illusion. i just thought it was so lovely. as a child my grandma's paintings moved at night, particularly the faces from the portraits. my grandma put her juju in it. she was also mentally different. i knew at the time that once i became a grown-up, i would lose the ability to see the faces move. i knew reality is elastic insofar as we live our youth.
i have mahler's second now. this tortured angel gathered the sands of heaven and whooshed them over his head. this made sounds that lasted an hour. we call them symphonies. he had enough sand to throw up nine times. he died because that sand was also his hourglass. that is the curse of the ninth. god does not punish composers. he lets them spend heaven's sand.
