I have this near phobic timidness. And yes, surely one of many phobic type concerns/issues/inclinations.
This one in-per-tick- cue-lar, concerns , art doings. Going to museums, even on the free half price, buy one get one free days.
Or Art openings, even if the latest stankless D.J/ hipster projects will all be there, looking as artsy as only a sexy artist can.
Its not that i do not fit into any of the categories, that would allow me a Moses spreading the social sea entrance. Hell IM so COY- COOL -AVANT GARDE like I could freeze linseed oil with one art signification, or dissolve a Duchamp with sun RA reference.
IM coooooolllllllllllll.....So damn coooooololllllllllll...
Back to the, the. I went to the De Young, with the FAB Fam, and Rolf.
I saw something that made me understand, again that this urge and dictation of feeling, images, sound, color, breath...
has nothing to do with me, IM not a special one, IM one of the special. And one is connected to two to three and so on.
It all adds, up...
A receptacle, vessel, conduit. This Urge And curiosity has nothing to do with, impressing anyone, being known as a name.
A name whose work is left on the opposite side of CUL de sac, watching you look for who you are, in mirrors of style and mis- leading verbatim.
A Name is not a verb.
And originality is not given nor is it replaceable. I have been busing myself. Concerning the why with the now's objective.
Walking around in awe of endeavors discourse. For whatever reason, someone took the time and effort to expose them selves. In my mind exposure means exhibition. And I get cold easily when naked...
I NEED TO BE WARMED BY :
LOOK AND WATCH THESE PAINTINGS, LOOK FOR SMOKE...
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