Its peculiar i cant ever remember feeling as sad as i drew myself two weeks ago.
and then at the same time i can.
its like when you catch the cold . you don't realize how bad it is until you're in it. until you really have it. right now i'm laying in my bed listening
to a record called music from vietnam. I rented it from the library
with Vince before we went and saw a film called Great Directors at the Gene Siskel Film Center.
I stumbled across some beautiful things in there.
Agnes Varda who created Cleo 5 to 7 says "As an artist you will have doubt, will experience pain. sometimes you lose it, and you just want to watch and experience other artists work, (films), but even when you lose it, it comes back."
adored that.
Then the other notes i jotted down in my journal that i had to decode after from the dark theater light were as follows;

- Dreaming is not dead, just forgotten.
-Sometimes in leadership people are taking quick answers instead of following through. (-dont do that bird)
-EVERY EXPERIENCE FEEDS IDEAS.
-INVENTION is CREATION
-Being alive in terms of an artist is a gift.
-Fashion changes all the time.
-Reality interests me less than truth.
-Even in a dream one keeps looking for a solution.
-Film like other art, reflects the world.
-I did what I wanted, good or bad....it was me.
-Van Gogh made art/paintings to look for a truth, not for an audience - remember that.

this middle image is from a 69 cent photo i found in a box in a store called JUNK in New York.
i think its one of the most beautiful things ive ever found. i wish this copy could do the real thing in my journal justice.
that boy, he's just looking, in disbelief, the curiosity of age. of greying, of time.