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A Dedication.

  These words are for the artists and dreamers  Who want a slippery God, Not the stone one nailed permanently to a cross In old buildings, t...

Sunday, February 27, 2011

through your eyes.


"You are here so that God can experience the world through your eyes. See what you see. Feel what you feel. Everyday He can't wait to see what you'll do. What makes you laugh. What moves you. He can't wait. Everyday through you, He falls in love with the world all over again."

-John Hindman


Saturday, February 26, 2011

words.

I love this idea from Vintage Indie to cover a file cabinet with the pages of an old dictionary. I'm currently looking around my apartment and wondering what I should cover in words. This could be dangerous.

"It's the words that sing, they soar and descend . . . I bow to them . . . I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down . . . I love words so much . . . The unexpected ones . . . The ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop . . . Vowels I love . . . They glitter like colored stones, they leap like silver fish, they are foam, thread, metal, dew . . . I run after certain words . . . They are so beautiful that I want to fit them all into my poem . . . I catch them in midflight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them, peel them, I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives . . . And I stir them, I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I mash them, I garnish them, I let them go . . . I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coals, pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves . . . Everything exists in the word." -Pablo Neruda