last night i was pretty sick. well, annoying sick. the kind of sick that is day three of coughing [due to cold] all night and being unable to sleep for more then 2 hours, because you are coughing, in a fit, every 2 hours. so today i am sick/no-sleep/nyquil hungover. out of my mind. but something keeps calling me. actually something is always calling me, but today i am indulging this escapist fantasy. i am indulging myself shakespear. all day. i know. shakespear has been done. and period pieces tend to be pretty lame. but nothing says 'escape' like a treacherous woman and a golden ass.
i have been doing this 'return to innocence' thing for the past little while, re-birth and fairy tales and romanticism. and it has been fun, but as the proverbial dog i am returning back from my journey and into a more comfortable metaphor. i have come back to the old pit of pop culture. quick and disposable. thats what i find myself missing these days. all i see is pixelated boxes glowing and filling my face with its saturated light. i see my profile in a dark room glowing from its rays.
staying in with the night and my proposed writings and images has created this romanticism surrounding the world i see in this night place. it is the new fairy tale. the story of adolescence into adulthood through an array of association. floating like alice i see nothing but myself reflected everywhere. why is my association to these things so meaningful. why does courtney love hold her hands in grace. why do we all recognize a story even if with in the very same image the characters are represented totally differently but associated together we completely understand the sentiment. my belief stems from these associations. from the dark room and the solo journey. it is the thing that comforts me the most. i guess i am still not convinced i have left the rabbits hole. that i am part of something that does in fact have substance.
i have made art that is meaningful. arguably it has all had meaning, but i mean a conscious selective meaning. and it is so fulfilling to have something that started somewhere and was seen through to finish. most of my ideas will hang forever in cyber-space as photographs and moments past. the out pour of creativity has finally found a home. a place to grow. and that is because i have come back to something very old inside myself. something that smells like youth, but moves like courage, something i cant quite see, like a tv, like a movie, like a television show in the background and the light on the wall is all you can see. but you know it is an old seinfeld episode. because everything fits you just cant see the image. i will never tire of idealism. i will never stop searching for the popular metaphor that is meme, defining the moment, comparing the ending, seeking the answer. i will never let go. lead me into the dark water. i live for the after glow.
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