I feel like I haven't written a thing in weeks, barely even answering e-mails. They pile up in my mailbox, I'm watching the numbers go up and helpless to do anything about it.
All my drawings this week had been about mirrors, about reflection. 2 sides of the same coin, which are the same, and not the same. I have this feeling of a thinning universe, of multiple incarnation of myself in a million parallel worlds. Me that made different choices and became different people. I can hear their echos in my ears when I speak. I feel like if I just reach out a little farther, I'll be able to touch their hands. Like reaching to the moon and stars in a clear night, feeling as if they are just within reach.
A pregnant women in a forest green dress reading a book with a big moth on the cover, over two sunny side up eggs.
Plastic vessels with yellow liquid, plastic vessels with brown liquid.
Cold light over a patchwork blanket.
Choking laughter.
All I can see today are fragments.
No comments:
Post a Comment