Lately I have trouble reading conditions. With very good books I can not switch from one line, or paragraph, that is special to me, it hits me up groggy and with those who are not therefore gives me sleep on the second page. If I read: "I touch your mouth with a finger touch the edge of your mouth, I draw as if out of my hand as if for the first time your mouth opened a little, and I just close my eyes to undo it and, I born mouth whenever I want, which my hand chooses and sketches on the face, a mouth chosen from all, with sovereign freedom of choice for me to draw with my hand on your face, and that by chance I seek not to understand exactly matches your smiling mouth underneath which I draw my hand. " I'm rereading and rereading and say: my god, what I need to learn and then get up and start to draw. (Going for you, Mr. Cortázar.)
bad I am given to the nose, hands and feet and ankles, and breasts and profiles and front and so foreshortened drawing landscapes and give me wrong perspectives and the skies, and roads and trees and the sea and ... so after an hour or two trying to draw or read, I give up and then come relax and watch a movie the list is: Kil Bill, or Personal ... but now I have dream.
If I could choose one of the tenants would be an Asian, a Japanese, or Chinese, or Vietnamese, or Korean, who is an artist, which is a sort of Yoko Ono, very creative, very fun, very experimental, very avant-garde, very contemporary. Kyoto comes or Shanghai ... That has taught me smile Asian Art, the Art of his country ... how are the gardens dry, and the mats, and sunrises along with Fuji and how are the sunsets together Yan Tse river and sound like stringed instruments and how does the sake and if I could go ... would the people of their ancestors and hear the legends that speak of warriors, the samurai and how are the sexy women kissing Kyoto? And I answered a smiling teenager and asks me if I want to try and offer and close your eyes and say, look, and you'll kiss and kiss and I'm glued to his lips are strawberry gum and know strawberry chewing gum mouth Bazooca and all sticky and stuck look at their eyes and their eyes are full of black ants that I pass my eyes and I was born the fray and ants that I glide through the endless processions chest and I get to the ankle and then I have an erection and say my god is not a dream, is real and the foot moves as an independent and escapes my leg and I will walk alone and he just walks around the house and walking the corridors and he whistled as he is a dog whistle and walk obediently back to your site, register, and notice is embedded moisture and say the Kyoto Japanese girl seduced me and made me feel the most wonderful orgasm of my life and say in Japanese, sayonara, sayonara, sayonara, and awakens me hail pecking the glass of the window and opened my eyes I find the lamp and look at my picture I wonder how you can watch a car crash in a painting under the influences and the influence of the Surrealists and the influence of Magritte and my foot hurts and my best friend seems to peek above the waistband Levis # 5 as calling him a favor and to lend a hand. Go
later my god. What an absurd way to waste time. My foot hurts something and toes seem to be something purple. As I can study it all you can about Oriental Art. As I can I'll get to explore ways to learn to describe the wonderful musical effect of hail on the glass. The Art of Percussion, The Art of Drumming of hail on the glass.
The gloom darkens the shadows of my profile and poisoned hail pace the rhythm of my heart. Relentless pace that makes me despair.
bad I am given to the nose, hands and feet and ankles, and breasts and profiles and front and so foreshortened drawing landscapes and give me wrong perspectives and the skies, and roads and trees and the sea and ... so after an hour or two trying to draw or read, I give up and then come relax and watch a movie the list is: Kil Bill, or Personal ... but now I have dream.
If I could choose one of the tenants would be an Asian, a Japanese, or Chinese, or Vietnamese, or Korean, who is an artist, which is a sort of Yoko Ono, very creative, very fun, very experimental, very avant-garde, very contemporary. Kyoto comes or Shanghai ... That has taught me smile Asian Art, the Art of his country ... how are the gardens dry, and the mats, and sunrises along with Fuji and how are the sunsets together Yan Tse river and sound like stringed instruments and how does the sake and if I could go ... would the people of their ancestors and hear the legends that speak of warriors, the samurai and how are the sexy women kissing Kyoto? And I answered a smiling teenager and asks me if I want to try and offer and close your eyes and say, look, and you'll kiss and kiss and I'm glued to his lips are strawberry gum and know strawberry chewing gum mouth Bazooca and all sticky and stuck look at their eyes and their eyes are full of black ants that I pass my eyes and I was born the fray and ants that I glide through the endless processions chest and I get to the ankle and then I have an erection and say my god is not a dream, is real and the foot moves as an independent and escapes my leg and I will walk alone and he just walks around the house and walking the corridors and he whistled as he is a dog whistle and walk obediently back to your site, register, and notice is embedded moisture and say the Kyoto Japanese girl seduced me and made me feel the most wonderful orgasm of my life and say in Japanese, sayonara, sayonara, sayonara, and awakens me hail pecking the glass of the window and opened my eyes I find the lamp and look at my picture I wonder how you can watch a car crash in a painting under the influences and the influence of the Surrealists and the influence of Magritte and my foot hurts and my best friend seems to peek above the waistband Levis # 5 as calling him a favor and to lend a hand. Go
later my god. What an absurd way to waste time. My foot hurts something and toes seem to be something purple. As I can study it all you can about Oriental Art. As I can I'll get to explore ways to learn to describe the wonderful musical effect of hail on the glass. The Art of Percussion, The Art of Drumming of hail on the glass.
The gloom darkens the shadows of my profile and poisoned hail pace the rhythm of my heart. Relentless pace that makes me despair.
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