February 2012
561 posts
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There's Something About Holy Music
Something that digs down deep in my bones and refuses to leave until I have sculpted new works with my hands. I think of all those people living in Medieval times who were born and then died not too long afterwards, all the children born in winter who never saw the spring. My heart aches. The music written for God and for Jesus and the saints I feel was really written for the babies who died too...
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Happiness
Even the happy people struggle with demons living inside them.
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Today was the most boring day.
I can’t even
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In the car as morning spills out of the sky my mother plays Mozart and my fingers trace patterns in the window-frost. We drive through cities; past children slumped against brick buildings. We drive into the white face of suburbia with shopping malls and brand names. This is wrong and I know it; my five-year-old body trembles with the sharp nails of truth that dig into my skin. Has it always been...
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“I don’t want to earn my living; I want to live.”
– Oscar Wilde
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“I don’t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side Of Paradise
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Does anyone want the link to my personal?
