Degrees of Spontaneity in Times of Resistance
Is silence ever?
We are not retreating - we are advancing in another direction.
Again with the ready fire aim - jumping in at any point to initiate a beginning.
Why bother to go play when already thoughts run wild around guests that politely fume on smoke rings quelling any interest + deserting meaningful time by adhering to the soft clutch of conversation skimming as an oil slick across water straying just out of reach.
Cultivating diversity -
Hone natural abilities that lie on tables tops sliding onto the travertine floor waiting for a chance to escape with a livelihood all l their own — only to wait wait wait patiently so very quiet calm collected unnoticed even turning into gelatinous dusty messes unable to perform unable to redeem yea unable to think. -note a/part of me wrote in my croquis.
What I learned today:
It is still useless to use dirty water while using white paint.
Walking after dusk is relaxing as I do not see what needs to be tended to - and the white flowers pop!
And … it seems the more personal the work the more universal it becomes a dichotomy.
While re-watching Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America - I recognized the importance of a secondary scene. Noodles walks into Fat Moe’s bar and hands him a clock key. Fats walks to the stopped grandfather clock and switches time back on* - after 30+ years of Noodles absence. I believe this is a clue that Noodles is nearing death and this is his alternative future of his delusion of reprieve state of opium. Just sayin’.
*As in the superstition of stopping a hall clock when there is death in the house.
It is harder to make beautiful painting interesting than a to make an interesting painting beautiful.
When the opportunity expresses itself stand up and spin around stepping up to a higher plane recognizing that none of this matters - that is the exhilaration part. Then sit back down and when your eyes close you will remember repulsively to pay the electric bill.
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