We haven't room to simply let down our hair and full-Being flow anymore (. . . did we ever? We try at clubs, through music laughter and loving children, through food and hobbies, but We live lives of stuttering action pinned like fading butterflies to an event-oriented oblivion. It's not modernity but rather the building…Read more Flow, Earth
We come with no knowledge to this place and share nothing with each other of the essential key that grows inside us like a living being, limned in gold, far more precious than the blatant, bleating answers we all seek, and seeking, sometimes find. That essence is more powerful than any knowledge gained or lost,…Read more Connection and Peace.
excerpt from my journal: ——————— "I think there’s really something magical about folk music. I’m sitting in Connemara in a pub and there’s these 3 guys just chillin’ with a few traditional instruments (staples. guitar, accordion, folk guitar, mandolin i think…?). Every time I listen to this stuff I get swept away to another world…Read more ^folk, (o)=e
I cannot write. Cannot write, cannot write cannotwritecannotwrite. There is nothing to say, it's all been read,saidanddone. I cannot write right: my idealism won't countenance these mongrel awkwardnesses, won't afford them the space, award them the effort, free them for flight -- the gut-dropping, nose-first dive I know it will inevitably be. I cannot write…Read more Today
smoking stacks weary my soul. --- --- c. Kate Gough
Big cigars sticking up out of the Earth. --- Cold monuments to a more industrial time. --- --- c. Kate Gough
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