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2008-11-13 03:09:38


flatten my shirt collar
soften my skin
touch my chest, and we begin

"Tonight has been draining. This is the last, and I will fall asleep...

My mind excites me.
I'm lost in the thing.
Yes, I indulge in every minute of it, and yes, it starts getting out of hand
because I am a bit wingy sometimes, and I am completely irrational.
I work my way through whimsical, dreamy thoughts that keep me up when it's dark, and while my surrounding heartbeats are resting soundly...
I can still hear the ker-thump, ker-thump in my ears resounding through me until the early hours of the morning..
I feel it in my fingertips, up my arms into my chest and through my belly.
It beats through my hips, and into my thighs tickling my toes, and dives into my thoughts.
I have broken sentences, with ker-thump interrupting. Another word, or two, and another ker-thump.
Another few attempts at sleep, and I wake up with that uncertain feeling, the unfinished feeling.
I think of your eyes, and the way your smile spreads across your face and my gutty-wuts meet ecstasy once again.
My heart falls back to where it's suppose to be.
And home is where the heart is they say, so...

My heart slowly mutters at me, and asks to be left alone.
My mind doesn't want to be alone.
So, I am left lying in bed my legs shifting about, swimming in the sheets, and my hair still tickles my neck.
It's grown a lot."

"It was something that no one could ever understand,
and the more flaws I found in you..
the more in love I fell.

Doesn't matter, our minds are in unison.
Your body is perfect, so is your mind."

It feels so good to grow up.
But here's one more thing I'll look back on and shake my head.
I need stop being so lazy. Purely entertainment.
Tonight, I need to sleep.
This is *not* art. This is a reflection.



2008-11-16 22:57:02

"gutty-wutts": is this an A Clockwork Orange reference? Sounds like it.

As for "This is *not* art. This is a reflection", I like to think, as it's often been said, that art is a reflection of life, for a few reasons. Art is, to me, the complete opposite of life: like in a mirror, everything is backwards: left is right, right is left (up isn't down in a mirror, except, I guess, in a concave one...but that doesn't matter here). It looks exactly the same, but everything is reversed. And so in Art, which is the opposite/mirror reflection of Life, everything that is good in real life is bad, and everything that's bad in real life can be "good" in art. So, for example, violence, which is not good in real life, and should be absolutely minimized, is okay in art because nobody is actually getting hurt. In Art, we can learn from the violence, know it isn't real, and remind ourselves how much we don't want it in real life, and try to see how to avoid it actually happening. This is why an ultra-violent book, like A Clockwork Orange or American Psycho can be good art, and why critics who say it glorifies violence are so silly. Art with violence in it is almost always showing why it's wrong, rather than sensationalizing it (Hollywood movies excepted).

And conversely, in real life we want love, romance, happy feelings, etc. But in art, this is usually a bore. Which is why I don't like sappy poetry, even though that's usually about sad feelings, which I guess you don't want in real life either. I guess what I mean is I like irony in art, where, as Stanley Kubrick put it, the opposite of the truth is present as if it were the truth. That is, if you're going to have "happiness" in art, make it false happiness. Or if it's love, make it soon-to-be-ended love. Or have a jerk say a bunch of stuff that obviously isn't right, rather than say a bunch of "nice" stuff, which would be condescending to the audience, who don't need to be told what is good and right. Otherwise you've probably got a self-righteous political statement masquerading as art, or a bad romantic comedy on your hands. Or worse, a Harlquin novel.

But the most direct way that Art is like a mirror reflection of Life is that Life, as far as we can tell, is full of chaos, lacking structure, and almost totally meaningless. Art, on the other hand (or from the other side of the mirror) has form, structure, and a meaning. Art, you could say, itself gives otherwise-meaningless-Life a purpose. Art is how we see ourselves, individually and collectively, just like in a mirror. I'm getting a lot of this from Oscar Wilde, who has had a formative influence on me (and who was much more articulate and eloquent than I).

Anyway, I didn't comment much at all on your piece, but that last line made me think of all that other stuff.



2008-11-17 00:33:39

AH! I've forgotten Alexander DeLarge on the list of things.
Golly. Er, yes. It is a reference to A Clockwork Orange. It is my favorite movie, after all.

I'm sure someone who knows me would say, "Keshia is a contradiction."
I am. I'm a soft hearted, expressive, classic girl- with the desire for such work running through my veins.
I love that kind of thing. There's always something about it that gets me. I completely agree with you there, ha, "ultra-violence". I love that word. It's beautiful, I think.

I like how you make sense, and I fail to reply. You've captured too much of one thought, leaving me no room to argue, because as much as I want to say you don't make sense, you do.

"This is *not* art. This is a reflection," was a gently bitter reference to you. Haha. I thought you would have caught that.

I do like how you see art as another world.

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