2004-09-10
Paint A Song of Sorrow
hearing: I Need You (live) - Jars of Clay
reading: A Wind in the Door by Madeline L'Engle
feeling: I'm staying pretty steady in the emotion area...
The Past Under Glass
(Credits:stock photo, brushes 1, brushes 2, brushes 3, brushes 4)
Off the cuff
Chasing down comets
Crashing into moon beams
Tearing through the universe
Borne on waves of harmony
The deeper pulsing of the universe
Engulfing me with an unspoken language
More beautiful than clumsy speech
Reverberating in the veins
Gentle joy teaching me the stitches
With which to mend a broken heart
Showing me how to remember
Yet forgetful of pain and bitterness
Embracing my sorrows
Parceling my griefs
Demonstrating wisdom
Spelling out hope
Bright stars
Which will blind the fool
And light the path of the child
Chivvying with the mirthful beacons
They will rescue me yet
My companions of mercy...
I tasted the waters of pools out of my time. I shall long to taste them ever after now. Melancholy will pursue me. Suspirare ever after. Close at my heels. Wishes deeper still. Too high to catch anything, yet always wanting. Aching.
I guess it's back to stoicism then.
I think he missed me. We'll never be as close as we once were though. Sorry darling, I've known better than impassivity. To go back...it just isn't the same. I hope my former stoicism understands. I don't think he will though. He's going to be so rejected by my dissatisfaction...
I don't look forward to the torpor.
Suspirare
I create for expression. To vent my emotion in some manner. When I am doing something creative, fulfilling, and productive with my hands, nothing hurts so much. Or it shifts to the back burner for a while. Or maybe it gets untangled a little.
Nothing I create is supposed to be good or magnficent, or even hardly worthy of reading. It's just supposed to help me feel better.
With that said, I still don't quite understand what all of these expressions mean to me. The poetry bits I understand better. Those are clearer in describing what's going through my mind and the evolution of my psyche. The crummy visual art is a little harder to tell.
A lot of it is just random creative ideas I thought might look nice...
Shallow, meaningless art...
Mom is making me watch Mona Lisa Smile tonight. No warm, crackly video tapes on a dark couch tonight. A sharp quality dvd in the computer and... the dreaded bed? Perhaps I'll opt for my pink chair...