whispers

yes said

everything happens for awhile

a boy in shadows layers bricks

another wall

another art project

quality of life

whispers

sweet nothings

writing is saying something

to someone who is not there

who will never be there

we will be the ones

who have gone away

- George Perros

A Century is Nothing ... True enough. Existence is suffering and pleasure. It’s a grand precious adventure.

Seems full of fools, dead ends, bookends, trails, trials, tribal ramifications and tribulations. Where are Beauty and Truth in this tale? Where is the structure? Where is the linear narrative?

It’s in the big show. Shows to go ya.

It’s in the thread of three Greek fates. The three most dangerous goddesses were the Fates called Moirai. Homer called them ‘spinners of the thread of life.’

Clotho, the birth goddess, spun the thread of life, Lachesis measured the length allocating the amount of time to each person.

Atropos cut the thread. Anyone resisting them faced Nemesis, goddess of justice.

The Fates spin out our lives, fusing art and language. My instincts indicate a good harvest.

I dance through canyons leading to Southwest kivas inside a fire dragon’s mouth. I welcome the energy of sun, rain, life.

Languages. Tongues. How do I know where it will go? My job is gather material then let the Other organize it. I'm lucky to get it down. A conduit.