movements....
the other day, while my trusty means of transportantion, (my brothers bike) was in for a long overdue overhaul, I was on the bus obviously headed somewhere, from somewhere else, sadly bored with the slowness of riding through copenhagen in rush hour, in a bus that stops every 20 feet, when i got out a pen and the only paper available, and wrote the following on the back of my business card. (i know that sentence was excruciatingly long, but as you know i aim to please.....)
such a vast emptiness between relaxed and tense,
so many miles between excitement and commitment,
i wander in silence amongst
dunes and ditches,
hills and valleys,
surrounded by a surreal gathering of clowns, dwarves, princes(ses) and strange beasts.somewhere between reality and the extremes of my imagination,
is an island protected from the calamity of a stormful sea.here i rest in my tiny shelter,
looking out unto all else,
confused,
dazed,
unimportant.
only a speck on the glossy facade of life......
quote of the[insert arbitrary period of time here]:
Don Marquis:
"Procrastination is the art of
keeping up with yesterday."
currently reading:
Neil
Gershenfeld:
"What Happens When Things Start
to Think?"