a soul is not given. but everyone can find a pine cone in the face, sense malice in a crowd, enjoy the greatest fulfillment of translating the vitality of a radish into the world-picture at the expenses of ruinina, humanity on which the future production of cradles and atonement depends. the best makes and disguises bestowed on those whose time is not running, but instead are always coming home, they have the passion for roaming the Siberian forest, where Puskin’s deported assassin is still trying to perform the last gesture
- though the former is alive – the latter is long dead
down to the wire, this was the very result of an entirely unplanned process_
the love of all decay_
an art project i did at the university of western australia (symbiotica)_
‘ the limitations of human love;
when we think for one moment about how inestimably dear life is,
we witness the extinction and destruction of another life,
we soak up the hurt for every problem until we become the hurt ourselves,
so we stop the contemplation,
in doing so is akin to laying our heads down and dying as slowly as life passes.
we eventually come to a point where it’s a fight,
for how much tragedy we can care about, it become purely coincidental ‘
-inspiration; astral weeks.
rather hyperbolic i know. but isn’t that what our urbanization is all about after all? a paradoxical result of wanting to make our world a better place and enrich our lives for the better.
‘ would we then go; i don’t want to live in a stinking world like this anymore because there is no attention paid to the earthly law and order no more. singing the melody in the rain. ‘ (a clockwork orange)
judgement is difficult, don’t take me too seriously, for ‘earth’ without ‘art’ is ‘eh’.
i must apologize for my inconsistency. assignments are scheduled for the week, leaving me actively engaged with design at the university level. am evidently not quite the industrious student, or plausibly poor time management in some sense. that aside, i would love to post some of my closing designs in time to come. meanwhile, please bear with the interlude.
” there was not one among us who looked forward to being born. disliking the rigors of existence, the unfulfilled longings, the enshrined injustices of the world, the labyrinths of love, the ignorance of parents,the facts of death and the dying, the lost, amazing indifference of the living. all these midst the simplistic beauties of the universe. i fear for one, the heartlessness of us, all of whom we are born blind, few of whom ever learn to see in time to come. ”
the river eventually became a road, for the road is always hungry, branching out to the world.