I have had a lot of time to think lately. Well, let my mind wonder as schedule one drugs don’t facilitate linear thoughts. For some reason my mind comes back to art. I’m no theorist, not even well versed on the rhetoric of anger toward the establishment, the consumer mainstream, or even towards bushy. I am a pacifist. I’m lazy. I’m typing one handed.
Typing one handed has allowed me to slow down and smell the roses at president ford’s funeral. I smell art. I have the time now to savor each word now. I can write about my favorite word, phantasmagoria. I love the feel of saying phantasmagoria, the way it makes me use my tongue in every position, pressed against the top of my mouth, held against the back of my teeth, and relaxed for the ending -ia sound. Now you say it… told you.
So many words, Aquafina, for example have this beauty.
All this beauty adds up to a beautiful stilagmite of art.
I have come to see that just by saying them, we release beauty into the world, and through beauty art.
If the man has you down, or you’ve had major arthroscopic surgery and vicoden is like pissing out a forrest fire, just do what I do.
Type one handed.
Your mother will thank you.
