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BhagavadGita
Posts: 1,748
Journal entry
Nov. 11, 2002
Impressionist paintings. i don't know much about art, but i think that is how i am living my life right now. i look at things too close up.
i feel like i have a brick in my head. iam looking at this painting of my life up close. too close. i can see the colors of the images, but it all looks too messy. the truth is clouded. i am just too close.
i need to step back.
move the camera
fly higher up
to see the whole picture
i have come too far to not to finish.
wise words say nurture you inner critic
be a GOD MOTHER to myself
be a GOOD MOTHER to myself
be firm but gentle
keep zooming out till the WHOLE EARTH can be seen.
Nov. 11, 2002
Impressionist paintings. i don't know much about art, but i think that is how i am living my life right now. i look at things too close up.
i feel like i have a brick in my head. iam looking at this painting of my life up close. too close. i can see the colors of the images, but it all looks too messy. the truth is clouded. i am just too close.
i need to step back.
move the camera
fly higher up
to see the whole picture
i have come too far to not to finish.
wise words say nurture you inner critic
be a GOD MOTHER to myself
be a GOOD MOTHER to myself
be firm but gentle
keep zooming out till the WHOLE EARTH can be seen.
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a premanition
like walking on the boardwalk
anticipating a cloud of blood
and the seeing the swirling
gathering speed
arms wrap around my bro
my sister also
fear comes and goes
after hit pass around
bar demons laugh at the entertainment
me
using water colours
i paint a rainbow
kissing perfect lips
like my sadness
the hues fade
then blend together
before running
off the canvas
i catch the drops
falling off the edge
cup my hands
around my mouth
tasting memories
of a moment
frozen deep in time
she kissed my soul
she kissed my soul
she kissed my soul
she kissed my soul
with colour
unconcious trading of my soul
atop of the crowd the beasts
how they grow
and i pray to wake up
or so i did
when i was alive
the loudness the army of pain
how i could bring so much happiness
for the tears they would drain
inside what they call a dream
not to me
is being passed on passed on
for the comfort of my hurt
ick