The Artist must never pick a side but they should not sit on the sidelines either. They must rise above creed and political belief. Observe and interpret the myriad of emotions and actions that define the human and present their findings to the world.
Those who call Art subjective are detractors with a personal agenda. Watch them carefully for they have proven themselves to be dangerous on multiple occasions throughout human history.
As April showers tried to wash away the sins of yet another city. A young woman on far eastern shores opened a book and ran her fingers through its pages until she reached chapter XIV with its subtitle: The colour red and the threads of time…
“As long as I have something to attach to emotionally, I can ride out any storm and come out the other side unscarred. The key factor to this is to remember that it is a fantasy, a mental means of escape and if chosen correctly: a possibility.’
‘Could you elaborate on what you mean by: possibility?’
‘What I mean by that is that under different circumstances it could in fact be.’
‘Why go with this sort of fantasy in the first place then? Wouldn’t it be better or at least more meaningful to do what you can to make the most of reality? Maybe even drop the fantasy altogether and simply try to fulfil whatever your heart desires?’
(Audio log transcript interrupted)
I was expecting a parcel yesterday from Brooklyn, New York but instead I received a card from the postman with pick up details and attempted time of delivery. I put the card on the on the shoe storage unit next to the entrance and went to the studio to get on with a project I am running late on.
At around 4 AM I decided to hit the sack, so I went to the bedroom, switched the fan on and collapsed on the bed but just as I was about to nod off I had this flash back of a woman who came to sit for me a few years back. She had recently had a baby but you wouldn’t of noticed, we had a bit of small talk during the shoot and everything went as per usual but there was one thing that was odd. One of my cats, a very social one went up to see her and rubbed off her as she would often do with folk but for some reason, mid being very friendly, she bit the woman’s forearm. It wasn’t an aggressive bite but it was enough to draw blood.
As this memory came back to mind I couldn’t help but wonder why. I nodded off anyway and didn’t think more of it until today, when I jumped on the mini bus to go and pick up my parcel. About half way to destination a woman at the side of the road signaled the bus to stop. It did and she got on and sat in front of me. She didn’t look at me when she got on but I looked at her and recognised her immediately. She hadn’t changed much. Her was hair was a bit longer and a couple of fake finger nails where stuck to her fingers (As a side note: I fucking hate fake fingernails. Anything fake tends to irk me). Anyway, she shouted to the driver to stop at my stop and we got off. She headed in the opposite direction to the post office and I went and picked up my parcel.
I got back a couple of hours ago and thought I would note this little oddity down for the record.
“Before the mirror existed, we had each other. I’d ask you, you’d ask me and the trust between us held us together.”
Was it a song? A story? A cold hard reality of life?
If I recall correctly, it was all three.
She gave the world an image
I gave her the sound of the world
And thus we conversed over time
“So, let’s take a look at the saying: ‘No money, no honey.’
At first appearance it would seem to mean that if you are not doing well in life financially then the ladies won’t be interested in you. Well, as someone who has spent a fair amount of time with the affluent, I can inform you that it has a very different meaning. In reality it stands for: ‘If you ain’t got the cash, you won’t get a rash!’
Keep that in mind the next time you go out for a few jars. You can thank me later.”
Trade in the plant for lead
They said
And let loose
One squeeze at a time
The GeoSolus Web Log 