>He produced a small statue form his pocket. I bought it and a bundle of fire
>wood.
You know Mr de Lange, 'delayed feedback loops' take many form/contents;-)
Let me speak of a dried river come back to life through fire. Please help
me with a fitting experiment for the millennium and as is fitting to the
new unfolding paradigm, and then let's sit awhile and let its ripplings
accrue. Let the narrative begin over twenty years ago.
Ten.
SNIPPED out lots of background material;-) to sentence beginning -- I
'made them a show' for their new gallery out of rags of ink and torn
paper. I think I sold a few. I know I sold one. No, it was not you At;-)
Afterwards they said, You have made some nice Rembrandt studies as a
student and we'd like to sell them for you, there could be a market and it
would give you an income stream. Well, I never saw them again. I wrote and
asked for their return, all ten;-) No reply. Ho-hum.
In my home, still, there is just one more remaining. (eleventh) It is a
watercolour study of a bistre drawing of 'mother and child' by Rembrandt.
What's peculiar to me about it is that she looks like my mother;-) which
makes me the child, i guess. ho-hum.
A few years ago some-one wrote that 'not to act ones words would cause the
words to turn to ashes.' Then I met another woman who has since writing
this died. ' And the ink may burst into flames regaining life by and in
another...' or words to that effect. The truth then is not an either/or
but a both/and? One thought, of ashes, disturbs me at one remove and the
other one of flame, at another and through endless tuning-time they dance
on the leaves. I expect that is how you find it in the deserts At? Well;-)
At, here is the experiment, a very, very gentle gust doth blow this one,
an ex-press-ion if a somewhat Re(f)ine(d)Ar(t).
I am going to post you, as a form/content of a minor creative collapse this
last personal study.
Take it in your pocket to the desert next time you visit. Give it to the
poorest 'stick man' you come upon. Maybe the same one. Tell him it is his.
There is a young man in Nepal who makes no distinction between 'ink
writing and buffalo' his name is strange. Man Bahadur. He is a distant
cousin of the 'stick man'. They are both learning artists of the new
millennium. Should it be that the stick man needs to come to a 'no
distinction' between 'ink on paper and buffalo' he is most welcome indeed
to use the paper as tinder for any fire he wishes or can light with it;-)
It is most unlikely should he treat it as a picture anyone would steal it.
It is only a bit of paper with a dried up stream in it. Should he learn to
'paint' or 'sculpt' other things with/from it's presence, well then,
armor-fati (love fate) I say.
A year ago i would have said this 'last loss' has left me with nothing.
But i have continually and recursively learned since that "Authentic love
is a one to many mapping, nothing remains NOTHING".
Thanks teach' as some say.
'Last' losses need not be 'last<>ing' losses.
What's that a subject<>verb relation?.
Round and round.
LostisFound
Love,
Andrew
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