Say yes quickly
A presence, which existed before
In a sense, they’re not mine or yours; they’re ours
Say yes quickly to a presence which existed before. In a sense, they’re not mine or yours; they’re ours
Say yes to the existence of presence. Quickly, they’re no longer mine or yours; they’re ours
Before the presence, which existed before, say yes that they’re ours
A presence existed. They’re our senses. Quickly it exits
Sense a presence
The frumpy soft, smooth shapes collapse and inspire. They are ravished from pleasure. Laughters of engagement and new experiences prancing around other humans, and art, and color – where color meets a plane, and then a stitch.
Craft up an idea!
Wrap mouths upon mouths to chew on it. Let it sit like it’s caramel melting on your tongue. And then spit it out and try something new. Spell it backwards, make it wrong. Disappear and then wake up. Smell it, taste it, listen to it.
What does it, or you, or it and you need? How are the two becoming embodied in their own skin.
Skin with rolls, or taught skin with beads of water on it. How does it lay? Is it grey? Can it flip? Would that make it better?
How to spin it? Can it actually spin?
Get to the heart of it. What and where did this piece even come from? Is it trash, how many times has it been dyed? Can it heat up with the touch of my hands? Does it move and change on its’ own, over time? Can it be beaten, and is that pleasing? At times?
How to beat it, to beat yourself at your own game, to trick yourself, make yourself forget you know anything that you know. Rewind. Re-rembering. Re- learn, rebuttal, and then retract.
Take time. Time to think or think through your hands and move them on material, move your hands into color and through color. Dive in so deep that you have lost yourself. Lose yourself like travelling. Find “the other” Reinvent and rematerialize.
Travel until you can’t remember your own reflection and then have some tea.
Then move the body, the body moves the mind, moves the body, moves the spirit, reach in and find the light.
Turn on the light. Brilliant idea. Lightbulb idea. Who has the ideas? Where do they come from, how are they birthed? Are they birthed with us? Inside of us, in our cells? Are they always born-ing? Is that what we are doing? Are we touching ideas? Art is touching an idea. A tactile idea. A colorful brilliant touchable concept. One that holds weight, and metaphorically. One that flattens, folds, bends, twists, wraps. Breaches! 1. 2. 3. Find the gap and break through it.
Sometimes explode it, watch it fly, and metamorphosize. Embrace everything new and unknown. There are the dots to lay. Giant black dots that create a line. Sign it!