Thursday, 21 November 2013

radical interiority

Radical interiority
I don't know
It's what I lack
What my body is always trying to teach me about making art
Not discipline
Not the firm structuring of time
Not intention or plan

Going into a room and waiting for something to happen
Not ideas and thinking
Not interacting, not out in the world
Radical interiority
What it's always easier to flee from
Myself, alone in a room

And why the fleeing?
If I do it for only minutes
Everything starts to come
Everything starts to move
It is as easy as breathing

When I pick up a pencil
My whole system sighs with relief
On my rails again
Going nowhere
Just being here
In the stream that's open
Instead of fretting about the one I think is closed


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