Duo

Silence and solitude

One is the host, one is the guest
A kind of company that is loneliness
Steal a still room to quieten one’s breast
To appease and deny, to push and to press

Worry Maker

Stage 1: great afflictions saturate the stomach.
Stage 2: the heart empties once the task is completed.
Stage 3: dailiness finally fills the veins.

Wit

Will our solitariness ever lift, or is the life of the mind its own reward?

J.M. COETZEE, Youth.

The Exercise

Dam-like, water force
Opposing impulses I know so well
A pound lock, rising rivulets
Fighting to emerge from my own dwell

Planning

Everything changes: unexpectedly, undoubtedly, delightfully.

*  *   *

*   *     *

Everything.

A wave

:: ::

I’m obsessed with fluid and uncontrollable states of mind; as depicted by masters of writing.

I’m obsessed with Virginia Woolf; life and work.

A Mutation

The chemistry of feelings
Natural laws, emotional states
No matter how strong my will is
Changing without obliterating
What a challenging trial to make
Is my present my past remolded?
A lot is lost, a lot is taken
And everything is transformed
Again and again

Nothing is created from scratch

Volcanology

There are those who burst with their insanity
Spitting stupidity, vomiting vulgarity
Not I, for I can but implode with mine

When I learn to erupt so slowly
My whirlwinds will turn into lakes
Pools of discomfort, embers that cool
Shall give rise to what may come my way

Fright

Thoughts of being nothing without my expectations and dreams have been here, within
But I am me, with the insides out, a bit real, still me
What scares and threatens may as well liberate
Through anger and ache, from past to fate

Grip

The problem with yearning for something
Is that one day you might get it
Or leave it

Letting go of something can be just as painful
As holding on to something going wrong

The Armor

When emotions pave the path for frustration
Right and wrong writhe the will of the strong
Expectations are the fruit of illusion
And hinder the way to be gone

From the meek, the gentle and humble
Mulishness will give in and then fall
What’s sincere will remain and make crumble
Even the saddest, thickest of walls

Dwindle

Thoughts that run and cannot be caught
Running ideas that may melt the pot
Melting brains of wrong wars fought

To clear, to struggle
To battle; for what?

Nature

Till the day
Is ending
And the birds
Are silent
And the insects
Are courting

By the shores
Heavy stones
Are falling

Tiresome

Though speaking can so easily enervate,

And chosen silence exert most fascinating influence,

Though voluntary muteness may be gracious,

Wording feelings is still pivotal.

All drawings by Brazilian artist Raquel Schembri.

Oh well

I don’t know why I fool myself in believing that there will come the day when I won’t need therapy.

The mind is like a beehive, I once heard, and it takes years and tremendous effort to clear it.

Meanwhile, I’ve fallen in love with Brazilian artist Lucas Simões‘ work, a surprising combination of photography and collage with great artistic insight.

His series called Desretratos (Unportraits) is especially brilliant and conceptually enticing. It also gives us a taste of the technique he uses. In his own words:

In this series of works I invited intimate friends over to tell me a secret as I took their portrait. However, my intention was not to hear their secret, but to capture the expressions of each one at the moment they revealed their secret. I also asked each one to choose a song for me to listen to in my ear phones while I photographed them. And, after the photo session, I asked each one if the secret had a color, and these are the colors the portraits carry. From this photo shooting session I chose 10 different portraits to cut and overlap. 

Two images:

It feels like peeling one’s brains through art.