beauty is lonely; melting into green

no one sat on this grass until we did

Larry: What do you think?
Alice: It's a lie. It's a bunch of sad strangers photographed beautifully, and... all the glittering assholes who appreciate art say it's beautiful 'cause that's what they wanna see. But the people in the photos are sad, and alone... But the pictures make the world seem beautiful, so... the exhibition is reassuring which makes it a lie, and everyone loves a big fat lie.

quantifying and qualifying

My sister took me to Haunch of Venison (which I still believe sounds like an extravagant cut of meat- "I'd like your finest haunch of venison please") around Green Park. We saw this exhibition by some guy who consecutively went on long continuous hikes around Britain. Most of his art work was writing on the walls and I noticed that everything seemed so ordered; from the neatly aligned stones on the floor to the actual order and composition of the words against the blank. He organised all his memories and all his experiences into letters and rocks and paintings. It made me think about how odd it is that we can select, collect and quantify all our intangible thoughts. And yet here my keyboard is rattling away.

We found macaroons and of course decided that we must eat them.

Soon the rain came and washed it all away.

Thoughts from places: flying lanterns

a long post about a long eveningtwilightdawnmorning.

we sat impatiently cross-legged with chocolate in a skip amongst other delights.

we switched on the lights which were wrapped around the white frame of her bed.

time passed

as we watched film after film.

the thoughts which they left spiralled dizzily around the tired conversations which we had.

if the dreams which we finally have do not live up to our expectations, must we find a new dream? is that a good thing or a bad thing?

why are we growing up?

we think we are finally ready for one.

soon she began to softly snore

and our conversations melted along with the ice cream.

I woke her up again and we gathered candles and lighters

we greeted the morning amongst their warm glow

smiling at the new day.

(our candles were the closest thing we had to lanterns)

once we returned, all that was left were the creases in the bedsheets; a reminder of the hours that had just passed and a reminder to me that I always think clearer at night and away from people, away from the city and away from home.