Thursday, December 3, 2015

Roses: All Day, Every Day





Exploring a theme or an idea to the point where you no longer have anything left to say about it is a mysterious endeavour for me. So mysterious, in fact, that I've decided to take on the entire enterprise full force as I love to live in a land that is unpredictable. Where circles come around in their own sweet time and not necessarily perfectly round. I use this new space to explore the rose. Beautiful beautiful roses. My utter obsession--and like good love or great sex, they feed my soul, but only for a little while. In a little while, all that beauty fades back into the place from whence it came, the dust, the ground. It rose rose rose up, fed me for a little while, wilted, went to ground, went to dust. But the memory of the beauty of it nourishes my soul long afterwards. Like good love and great sex, I always want the memory with me. I want to be surrounded by roses all day, every day. For every day of my life. 

My life has always existed about three degrees to the left or right of the limelight. I exist somewhere between a broken family and a family of strong and courageous women of faith. I have no father, I have many fathers. I reside where mystery and reality collide in some kind of spark of magic. I live here. My art is morphing from reality to the unreal to the things we can never know or be or own. 

These not so great photos (initial musings) represent stage one of a journey that has I don't know how many steps and I don't know when I will arrive at my destination and furthermore, I do not care. 


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