I lay here in my candle lit room, dwelling in my thoughts. Contemplating whether perhaps I should write them down, or maybe just let them burn out into the darkness of the night. Regardless, they’ll just sit there in the back of my mind with the rest of the dust infested thoughts I didn’t feel like conquering. Such a coward I can be at times.
I wake up in the morning to the sun shinning brightly through the curtains, at first I think to myself “what a pleasant way to be awoken” then it slowly all comes back to me. So I begin to toss and turn in bed thinking now to myself “where is the off switch” the off switch to turn off the sun and let the moon shine brightly again that way my dreams can dance themselves to life in the reflection of the moonlight rather than be burned by the harsh cruel sun in the wake of day.
I have an affinity for beds, simple unmade beds that tell a story of yesterday’s pleasures, or yesterday’s hardships.
"I have always told students that talent is cheap- you have to be possessed, or obsessed, rather. I have seen so many talented students just stop doing it because they can’t live off it- they want to go out to dinner like their friends, or have a house, or get married. You really have to feel like you cannot do art, and that is something you can’t will. You are just obsessed, or you’re not." - The Nonchalance of John Baldessari