Sometimes I find myself lost in paintings: the best pieces, I think, are transportive. You’re no longer in the pristine museum with white walled divides or the living room with its gaudy frames. You’re on some field instead, climbing over oil globs and brush marks and resting in blended shade. You’re on the rainbow trail dotted with pink painted flora. You’re somewhere else instead, dancing in visual reverie.
Psychedelic Poise, a watercolor portrait time-lapse
Backwards and forwards but no direction feels true / I know i can feel you cry when I’m / High above those clouds / But I must go chase this stream of mind
In class we learned the three types of gazes: the burlesque gaze, the male gaze, and the medical gaze.
March 4th, 2017
meteorites [with] crater-like impacts
left behind (but from far away!)
they look like shooting stars