dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: Surely some revelation is at hand.
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008/09/surely-some-revelation-is-at-hand.html
Surely some revelation is at hand. The artist as saboteur. And the undeniable impermanence. Of both. It's not a question of approval. It's a certainty that we cannot deny, both brutal and exhilarating. We keep looking for that hole, that line, but above all we must. In ways that those who adhere to doctrines would not dare. Years ago, this man I know went with me to a museum, and we stood and looked at this. Great post. It's refreshing to read such good writing out in this so-called "blogosphere.". The p...
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: You'll have no need to exist / And wake up refreshed.
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008/10/youll-have-no-need-to-exist-and-wake-up.html
You'll have no need to exist / And wake up refreshed. The conversation begins here. Please visit, listen, and contribute your comments and ideas. Tell us what you know, what you agree with, and what you think we're dead wrong about. There's a rapidly disappearing bottle of whiskey on the table, and smoking is allowed. George Orwell tells us that "During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act." It's time. We Do Not Exist. Fuckguess we have to really up our game now.
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: A kind of Pythagorean terror.
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008/10/kind-of-pythagorean-terror.html
A kind of Pythagorean terror. In the last entry of her diary Virginia Woolf wrote:. Everyone leaning against the wind, nipped and silenced. All pulp removed. This windy corner. And Nessa is at Brighton, and I am imagining how it would be if we could infuse souls.". Between the Acts,. Labels: a fine mess. Just kind of stumbled upon your writing here. I do indeed enjoy learning from others and being challenged in my role as the reader, which you have successfully done. Thanks muchly. We Do Not Exist.
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: Here all is clear. No, all is not clear.
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008/10/here-all-is-clear-no-all-is-not-clear.html
Here all is clear. No, all is not clear. In the beginning was the word. But the word is not as certain as we've been led to believe:. The initial Hebrew words of the Bible,. Have, in fact, two contradictory translations. One way to translate the opening line.is to treat the word. One of many Hebrew names of God, as the subject of the sentence, thus rendering the translation as the familiar phrase: 'In the beginning, God created….'. Is this so frightening? Labels: a fine mess. Need is not belief.
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: What lie must I keep?
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-lie-must-i-keep.html
What lie must I keep? I don't see myself anywhere but in that past. I'm no prisoner of reason. I said: God. I want salvation to bring freedom: what do I do? If only God gave me heavenly, aerial calm, and the power of prayer- like ancient saints. - Saints! The anchorites were artists abandoned by the world. Ah, to rise back to life! To look once again upon our deformities. But it seems my soul sleeps. Finally, I ask forgiveness for feeding on lies. Okay: let's go. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Start...
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: Silence is so accurate.
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008/10/silence-is-so-accurate.html
Silence is so accurate. This according to Mark Rothko, who himself was rarely silent, especially in the matter of his own work; extremely conscious of his path of intent, he dedicated thousands of words and multiple manifestos to it, going so far as to insist upon the exact distance from which it should be viewed and the dimensions of the rooms in which it should be hung. Part of the equation that worries me. Labels: need is not belief. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: 09.08
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html
Which hearts shall I break? I lent him weapons, and a second face. Hallucinations come, are without number. No one is here, and yet someone is.Shall I disappear? His kisses and embraces were a heaven, a dark heaven, into which I had entered, and where I would have preferred to have remained: poor, deaf, mute, blind. I got used to it. I saw us as two good children, free to stroll through Heavenly sadness. Love must be reinvented. That much is clear. And so we're cautious, sending signals out from the tower.
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: 08.08
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html
Some of us, a very few of us, are what the omnipresent "they" refer to as gifted. Whether an accident of nature, primed DNA waiting for an itchy trigger finger, a red flare in the frontal lobe, or a bestowal from an unknowable. Some of us are touched, some are the fire-bearers. It doesn't matter what you call it or where you think it comes from, when you brush up against it you see it for what it is, and if you're at all like me, you still carry a hope that some of it will cling to you as it passes.
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: 10.08
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html
Silence is so accurate. This according to Mark Rothko, who himself was rarely silent, especially in the matter of his own work; extremely conscious of his path of intent, he dedicated thousands of words and multiple manifestos to it, going so far as to insist upon the exact distance from which it should be viewed and the dimensions of the rooms in which it should be hung. Part of the equation that worries me. Labels: need is not belief. And then I floated. Labels: a fine mess. The conversation begins here.
dead-language.blogspot.com
dead language: And then I floated.
http://dead-language.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-then-i-floated.html
And then I floated. I've always struggled with the reality of inhabiting a body. I'm certain there are people who live their lives without ever seeing this as a problem, but once you've made that distinction and seen the two as mutually exclusive entities, once a divide has been located and one half found superior, I don't think there's much chance of reuniting them. And when the body fails, the mind bound to it tends to follow. That's where I am right now; right now, I'm an empty set. Labels: a fine mess.
