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Sometimes we say screw it all.

There is a growth hormone for the spirit that can only be found in quiet, when all of your devices are turned off, the screens gone dark, the music internalized, breath bringing you into your body, converted to chemical energy to keep you alight.

 

(But in the night I medicate myself with all that I’ve gathered to me; I shut off sensitivity and allow distraction. I become a machine that needs only fuel and fails to process complex data, and I plug in along with all the other machines so that we may speak to each other about channels, megabytes, virtual lives. And I’m completely bored by the whole thing.)

 

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The uncannily insane but wholeheartedly gracious and kind painter / patron Christie Chew-Wallace swerved off the Christie Highway just long enough to purchase this drawing from me. It now hangs on her wall with several other pieces that I've made, which is nice for several reasons.

 

Marker on paper.

2011

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Uploaded on October 8, 2011