So today went by overall smoothly. No major drama to recall =).
Don’t you wish you could remember all the little events that occered to you in a day that you remember saying “I should tell such-and-such this.” about? Well, that happened many atime to me today.
It really made me want to keep a little pocket book in my pocket (which I’ve done before) to jot down any little thing.
I found out eaither today or yesterday from Armando that Patrick Wolf played in S.F. on Tuesday, ARGH was I bitter. How I still long to see him live. Jon (gay Jon?) called Armando while “The Magic Position” was being played, that wench, he shoulda called me =/.
Now tonight I’m in a sort of… blah mood. I’ve noticed how fresh and ready my mind is to write at certain times. In the mornings, my mind is fresh and alive and ready to see the angles and colours life’s surrounding prisms cast. When I’m dead tired/intoxicated, my mind turns inwards and my writings take on a sence of reflection and self focus. But at times like this, neather fresh nor tired, I draw blank cards from a thick deck, it can be very irritating. (And yet, by articulation of such, I find things to continue on about.)
Oh the woe of the artist. Ne’er able to force his madness apon the page at will. Not until his thoughts, like stars, allign on the mighty nights and mornings of white.
Here’s something I’m very happy about, you all know of my journal that was stolen. Well, one of the many poems my heart scribed onto the pages was dubbed the name “Hello, Horizon”. This poem, I would say, is one of my more recent great works (and what I would still do to find and recall that poem, if nothing else). But something happened on Wednsday morning. Again, the right music (Arcade Fire’s “Furneral” CD this time), and the precise angle and heat of the sun caused a beat to form in my ears, and from that beat came words, and from those words came thoughts that matched the beat so smoothly that it could only be called poetry. I would copy it into this letter here, but it’s locked in my car, in my bag, in my journal. Which would require me to run outside in my scibbies to retrieve, and I dare not break this smooth train of thought. So I’ll show you the exact wording of it some other time. I think I’ll end up posting it on another blog.
But that’s not the point… the point is that this poem has become a second titled ”Hello Horizon” poem, not a replacement for the first, god no, but a seconed angle of it’s emotion altogether. In fact, I subtitled the poem as “Sunset” (and if the other poem were to ever be retrieved, it will be subtitled “Sunrise”), inspired from an image of a tree sillouetted agaist the sun. It’s short, and simple, but it rings clearly and is already connected to me in the same place as the first. I love having that sort of passage of time that the two would convey. If I could only bring them togeather.
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Today, the chapbook I’m assembling for Senior Odyessy took another step towards completion ( I added an excerpt from “The Wastelands” to it). But an odd and angry wave of emotion passed over me while I worked on it. I was copying an image of one of my tarot cards (The Hermit from my mermaid deck) when suddenly the image of Armando approching me invaded my head as he passed by. I imagined him looking at the card and scoffing, laughing about it, or saying something along the lines of “Be careful with those things Dan, they’ll mess you up!” in a sort of “friendly advise/joking” way. God the anger that welled up in me at the simple thought of him making such a comment! I imagined what I’d say in responce, and even went so far as to wish he would say something just so I could finally retaliate with some pent up frusteration built towards him that just begs to be released.
“Don’t you DARE mock my beliefs or spirit after all that you are guilty of betraying! Try and I will hold a mirror to your character so true that YOU will be the one who shatters upon reflection!”
Goodness the lines above screamed at me, from me, to him. I even had the feeling one gets after saying such a thing to someone. A sence of released anger and rage, reliveing and tiring, overtaking me. Strange.
Great days, great dreams to you all! Only five more days until life begins.
“Of all the lessons I’ve learned, I pray I never forget the ones the teachers never taught. Friends change, people die, and all this time you’ve got to remember not just who you are, but why you are. If I can manage that, then I can succeed.”
(the quote I wrote for my Graduation announcements)
-Dan.
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