i love words. and there are a few magnets in the world.

…and i don’t speed read. i tend to re-read and contemplate over words…over and over… and over.
i like to pay close attention to each sentence and hear what you’re saying and writing.
i like to know what is going on in your world.
whether i read your narratives or letters or texts or messages or stories…
…well, they paint a picture in my head. and if i look at a foto it tells me a story…

i take a while to look at things. i take a while to read a book…. to read a letter.
i go back and re-read them.
i’d like to read more letters and stories and messages….
…so there’s no need to be selective in what you write with me….

but sometimes i think people are selective in what they want to share…
i just want to know and hear you… and hear people.

i like to read hints and make my own judgement and conclusion. i like to read bold and clear words that make me pull in my breath. i like to read and hear words that send blood rushing to my ears…

and pictures too.

Henri Matisse-Charles Baudelaire Fleurs du mal)

and sometimes i take all those words and (in my head) make a giant building. i won’t make it too tall, i don’t want it to collapse…but when i feel it needs to be completed…i stop.
and i start a new structure with new words… and in those stories and letters and messages you’ve shared, i ‘ve (subconsciously) selected  phrases and words and stacked them up like an important architect (in my head).

and these words you shared …these stories and messages… well, they involve me…they attract me… they bring me closer and , some how, distant me from other less significant things.
i think.

sometimes… well, words exist.. and so many of them still haven’t been used by me or you or them…
and time… well, i guess, time exists to that all these stories and ideas (that you’ve shared) don’t happen all at once. (though , that would be totally bitchn’ and quite confusing!)
and. all this space we have… well, i guess, this space exists so that this bitchin’-confusing stuff doesn’t happen (all at once) only to you or to me or to them.

how can anyone stand to have everything happen to them all at once, right? but sometimes a word or a phrase can make you feel like that. the good, the bad , the love, the sorrow… this awesome felt intensity running through your bones. it’s a little beautiful. incredible. sometimes , well, somebody’s eyes can make you feel that. but when you don’t have those eyes… words take over. sometimes lips and the motion of the someone’s lips can make you feel like that…but when you don’t have those lips in front of you… words take over. it’s pretty enlightening, sometimes.

sometimes, stories are supposed to follow a path… but some just don’t and a it’s a little more exciting yet… they keep you on your toes and make you restless… And….well, it’s that felt intensity again.

i think…
…but then. again, i just like to soak in your world in your own words. :)

and i thought of this book…
20150924_075521

 

…La gerbe épanouie
En mille fleurs,
Où Phoebé réjouie
Met ses couleurs,
Tombe comme une pluie
De larges pleurs….

-Charles Baudelaire (Le Jet d’eau, from Fleurs du mal)

henri matisse illustrates charles baudelaire’s poems. a little treat… and a little perfect.

 

 

So... Nothing. That's it.

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