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Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Love is when the desire to be desired takes you so badly that you feel you could die of it.::: Henri Toulouse Lautrec :::
I was looking for a quote on showing ones art, on galleries, on openings, on readings- but I found this quote and it really summarizes how I feel today about my art. My poetry is what I speak through now. I cannot talk anymore, there is no one appropriate to listen. Though I realize now it was folly to ever think I was heard at all.
I think all artists are waiting to be noticed. Are we artists without an audience?I suppose, we are. But I know I dangle until I hear that unsolicited word of praise. And the words just wash over me, it's better than an orgasm. And existence without such love, praise and/or acknowledgement empty.
I write more now. Embarrassingly I realize the one I wrote for, never read me. And the one I have always been with, who endures all of me every day, endures my writing too. He doesn't get it. He asks about it, like one follows a recipe. And I appreciate and love him for it, but it's like your mother telling you, you are beautiful. Well, my mother never said that to me, but I imagine it's that way.
I was looking for a quote on showing ones art, on galleries, on openings, on readings- but I found this quote and it really summarizes how I feel today about my art. My poetry is what I speak through now. I cannot talk anymore, there is no one appropriate to listen. Though I realize now it was folly to ever think I was heard at all.
I think all artists are waiting to be noticed. Are we artists without an audience?I suppose, we are. But I know I dangle until I hear that unsolicited word of praise. And the words just wash over me, it's better than an orgasm. And existence without such love, praise and/or acknowledgement empty.
I write more now. Embarrassingly I realize the one I wrote for, never read me. And the one I have always been with, who endures all of me every day, endures my writing too. He doesn't get it. He asks about it, like one follows a recipe. And I appreciate and love him for it, but it's like your mother telling you, you are beautiful. Well, my mother never said that to me, but I imagine it's that way.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Poets (and others), The Bathroompoetry Project is looking for some sites. We have a willing participant who is looking for a few colleagues to help get the project up and running. Please take a look at the website and contact me if you're interested. http://bathroompoet.net/
I love this idea, probably because I love Jenny Holzer's work.
Recent poem:
what change from a dollar can get you
amusement and novelty
everything is available from a vending machine
anonymous boxes
slots for the obscene
plastic wrap for penises
and faux cotton
dummies
phalluses
to absorb
what the polyurethane screen deducted
proving life
doesn't come in a box
only the dead
