The world gets into our pores and writes on us lines with the clay of earth, warmth of sun bite of wind caress ; sorrow & joy clog our faces with our insides, the experience of our lived Grind:connected. Existentially, we are slow-born sculptures that tell of a daring hand a fiery eye, laced with…Read more Pores
sooty secrets buried in black: bleak as beak. --- windswept wood, wild sweet orange, swan's neck swoops. --- carefully curated, beautiful mind hovers over clear blue sky, being. --- reincarnation of flightless, imagined love, figment-tied: lost. --- so a lone --- ---by Kate Gough ---17/8/17
https://youtu.be/808nTiXLam8 I’m still in this place. Sometimes it seems I never leave. * Gallery, 2014 Imagine, if you will a gallery piece installed, a row of plants at progressing stages of growth, lined up in pots and flash-frozen in time, breathing cold puffs, crystalline almost synthetic. Imagine also the moment the exhibit starts to disintegrate, freeing gouged…Read more Grey
I can’t find my incense. I don’t want to write. I desperately want nothing more than to write. For ever. So then, perhaps I’m just a stymied masochist at heart(less), doomed to miserable inaction for the rest of my days. I do not dedicate myself as I should, as I need. . . There’s a…Read more The Ever-Processing Machine
-- "Faith is not being sure. It is not being sure, but betting with your last cent... Faith is not a series of gilt-edged propositions that you sit down to figure out, and if you follow all the logic and accept all the conclusions, then you have it. It is crumpling and throwing away everything,…Read more A New Proposition
-- "...I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given…Read more Everything Unresolved
