Because some days my heart is pressed right up against my ribs.
Because sometimes I am so full of joy I want to carom around the inside of this subway car like a superball.
Because some days I am brave enough to pick up my head and look you in the eye.
Because sometimes a stranger opens the door for me at the cafe and says "For you, anything is possible."
posted by ttractor @ 4:16 PM
7 Comments:
A stranger actually opened the door and said. "For you, anything is possible"?
Because it's you, I believe it-- that it happened.
Because it's you, I believe anything is possible-- for you.
yes, it really happened! I have a huge admiration for fiction writers, because I simply don't have the imagination to make things up wholesale. I can only frame up what I do see, what is in front of me, cant it so it feels like mine.
I had a huge discussion this weekend with a friend about making art and being an artist and the limitations one puts on oneself. I will keep holding the idea of "anything is possible" and "everything free" close to my chest.
Oh, how I would have loved to have been in on that conversation about art and self imposed limitations. It took me decades to figure out that I had carefully, consciously and methodically screwed up in "choosing" the direction, style and media for my "art." Of course, it's a long and complicated tale, one that I've never actually told.
But what I'm trying to get to, though, is that I see what you are doing with your writing and your photograpy and I think, "YES! YES! YES!" Along with my admiration for your obvious talent, my own sorry background is one of the reasons that I am so enthusiastic about your work. I not only love it, I am THRILLED for you, for I think surely you thoroughly enjoy what you are doing and have found both your vision and voice.
And I'm also quite excited about the entire "anything is possible" concept. The fact that you already know and believe that anything is possible is of such great advantage to you. I soooo wish I had known of this type of (new age) thinking when I was younger.
That stranger. That door. He KNEW.
Okay, I could gush some more, but I think you git the gist of this and I have to go back to work now! Keep 'me coming!
OOPS!
In the last sentence, I typed two letters in reverse order, which I often do. (I just typed tow for two, but I caught that). Anyhow, I was rushing!
It should be "Keep 'em coming!" What a bizarre slip, at least it should be good for a laugh!
I would love to hear the story of how you chose or re-chose what you do artistically. My friends will all start to pelt me with rocks and garbage if I don't start calling myself an artist, but it doesn't really feel real to me. If you can see what I am trying to do with all this, I would love to hear your take on it. In the meantime, more is on the way, I don't seem to be able to stop.
I have a huge admiration for fiction writers, because I simply don't have the imagination to make things up wholesale. I can only frame up what I do see, what is in front of me, cant it so it feels like mine.
I just never want to hear you say you "can only" frame up what you see...you don't 'just' frame these moments, you capture them, acknowledge them, instants and angles which might have never come into full existence until you formed them with your graceful eye or let them roll off your mental tongue and onto this screen--whether your poetry is an image one day or a collection of experiences and thoughts, the frame you place about these moments suspend them in time, and they collect and reflect the light from my eyes and adoration (as well as numerous other enamored spectators), becoming jeweled and beautiful and for that reason, m'dear, I come every day to your site, whether or not I comment. And yes, I will fly to NY and pelt you with rocks if the mere thought flits across your mind that you are "not an artist."
gah! there's that beating! I should have expected it! ah, that's why I love you.
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