December 23, 2011 § Leave a comment
I am finite, certainly closed.
From coin covered eyes our world grows richer. A moments passing like languid smoke and mixed colors. Loving the sand from which we came whose weight is given by the dust it turns to. Our loss of breath grants a heaviness in being and a lightness in life. Nostalgic for what is now we live in love. Forget not how numbers cursed man when he began to count time. Better lost are notions of circles and exactly straight lines. Take the density of time as altered by the winds with which we follow; never ignoring time as fractal, as dependent on how closely one looks.
In me something infinite, in you, too.
And so we come, as bodies in water, touching through an oceans currents. With hands acting on echoes from those past and present. With friendships as kite strings tied together. With chaos in our hallows we give birth to dancing stars, living as fireflies who flash in unison.
-cityofsalt
December 19, 2011 § Leave a comment
It can come through art, through music, or through literature. It starts as a spark and moves through the soul, and the world begins to glow. It’s your genius, your beauty, your epiphany.
The world is exactly how you see it, depending only on the manner you look. Fact is technique.
Quantum mechanics can be derived from the symmetries of a cube.
December 19, 2011 § Leave a comment
I love you, but, because inexplicably I love in you something more than you – I mutilate you.
Jacques Lacan
Entropy in Identity
December 18, 2011 § Leave a comment
What is your art aside from ones unique bonding of pigments.
What else is your moral besides the stringing of ideas.
What defines a scientist except how one ties theories.
What is ones writing but a distinguishable chaining of words.