Saturday, 26 February 2011
It took a whole day of rearranging notions to strew across a page.. Having so many left me with none, except the notion of the notion itself now and inconspicuous but vast and significant firecrackers of insights that prance like ghosts still uncatchable by words… (the silent, pensive practice of pagedreaming in the night..)
Friday, 25 February 2011
Blankness seems to have a transparent language that talks to me in a transparent voice, I hear nothing but noise.. I spell out short stories about a longing to hear, I am deafened by the noise of my longing.. I remember the shape of my ink that never shaped a word, instead it just got locked away in my own fear of not seeing it in full voice with all its side-effects of backing vocals and patches of melodic, pensive silence... and transparent ink spills and spells out in a silent language : "Being left alone with loneliness".