Ink Mathematics

April 4, 2010 at 9:37 am (Art, Bodies, Observations) (, , )

Sex is terrifying; just like dancing, laughing, falling, menstruating, coughing, sprinting, climbing, cooking, singing, performing, carrying.

If you put pen to paper and make a shape more like itself, more beautiful that any shadow it could have, then you have escaped this sickness. Your hands and wrists; your eyes no longer matter. They no longer have any purpose because you have made a line, and that is a place of its own.

Sculpture is vile. As you press against the world, the blandness of palpable earth will push back into you. You become dusty or dirty, greasy. The universe can creep under your fingernails, if you let it.

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1 Comment

  1. kseverny said,

    this is a useful insight

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