your obsession
open studios and too many parentheticals
I had a really full and filling weekend, letting people in to the studio. In terms of casual conversations with strangers it was probably more reps than I’ve gotten in literal years now. Most were brief and passing but there was a porousness in even the silent surveillance from the studio doorway. There were many kinds of exchange, and I left the studio each evening feeling very connected to New York as a city and the vastness of humanity (grandiose! I know). (I was also so tired by the end of the weekend that I somehow cracked my tooth in half on a microwave the moment I got home - shuddering corporeal reality check)(all fine now).
I’ll leave you with a poem (for once! its been a few weeks), one I wrote and exposed earlier this month.
we are all staying
QUIET
wild
dark
harder to reach
I looked down at my exposing
tedious obsessions
Levitating into
Life Again
creating a circular path around
The sun
this way you live
can disappear DIM
where time blurs
Mixed with beauty time will be
based SOLELY
on a handful of raw
definite arrangements
That’s not all it is,
your thoughts
feelings and being all love, good and
GOOD SEEKS
to also be loved
because
It’s impossible to answer
What’s a moment?
because in moments
if you listen
the time stolen from you
rustled in the
(silent, sleeping)
distance
One learns to locate
moments stuck in
your throat
at night