wilder excesses of twombly
from the rotting sacrificial carcasses,
Aristaeus gets a new swarm of bees
disrupt the calm.
delicate, disrupted
death decays lies
capture the fugitive light dissolving into shadow
bee breeding
agitated subject matter that he seeks to transcribesymbolic whiteness
restrained understatement
architectural backdrop, stage
swim across a sea to unite
blood becomes a flower
something ruptures, and the line of blood proves that it's over
layers
always. breaking. expectation.
breaking lulls to edge closer to life
cy twombly peashooting
visual index to draw upon
a book of things that make me alive like in Rome, not superficially exciting but strange, slightly sickening, but nausea gives way to enlightenment, joy release
terror in brightness
where does the incantation take you?
what is in my theatre?
the colours of a word
is it tremendous?
does it rouse me and teach me?
and colour my view of the rest of the world?
boldness. vulnerability.
empty space
collapse
coarseness
sudden change
yearning
THE RAVINE HAS NO BRIDGE
a rush
achieving two extremes
control andmess
lifeand death
he faked nothing, criticised nothing, mocked nothing
perhaps he was a conduit
make the lousy things, the bullshit, as only I know how
accuracy
bend material
make everyone see it too
honesty is the trembling persistent hand that knows no time who allows the birth to happen naturally
it does not have to connect
white impasto, the urgency of something new full
give into intuition
SEPARATE
the light
from the SILENCE
and the silence
from the CALM
become friends with the oldest part of me
from the rotting sacrificial carcasses,
Aristaeus gets a new swarm of bees
disrupt the calm.
delicate, disrupted
death decays lies
capture the fugitive light dissolving into shadow
bee breeding
agitated subject matter that he seeks to transcribesymbolic whiteness
restrained understatement
architectural backdrop, stage
swim across a sea to unite
blood becomes a flower
something ruptures, and the line of blood proves that it's over
layers
always. breaking. expectation.
breaking lulls to edge closer to life
cy twombly peashooting
visual index to draw upon
a book of things that make me alive like in Rome, not superficially exciting but strange, slightly sickening, but nausea gives way to enlightenment, joy release
terror in brightness
where does the incantation take you?
what is in my theatre?
the colours of a word
is it tremendous?
does it rouse me and teach me?
and colour my view of the rest of the world?
boldness. vulnerability.
empty space
collapse
coarseness
sudden change
yearning
THE RAVINE HAS NO BRIDGE
a rush
achieving two extremes
control andmess
lifeand death
he faked nothing, criticised nothing, mocked nothing
perhaps he was a conduit
make the lousy things, the bullshit, as only I know how
accuracy
bend material
make everyone see it too
honesty is the trembling persistent hand that knows no time who allows the birth to happen naturally
it does not have to connect
white impasto, the urgency of something new full
give into intuition
SEPARATE
the light
from the SILENCE
and the silence
from the CALM
become friends with the oldest part of me
