Jet Lag

The effect of time and distance on self identity

explore-blog:

John Baldessari believes that every young artist should know 3 things:

1. Talent is cheap
2. You have to be possessed, which you can’t will
3. Being at the right place at the right time

Tom Waits narrates a quirky 6-minute documentary about contemporary art legend John Baldessari. 

podsbackpacker:

moral of story: don’t gossip about the guest that are staying at your place… ! you never know, they do creep up on you when least expected…

I Met You 

I met you when the wind was blowing hard

But I knew you even before then

I saw you upstairs in a room with drawers

And the drawers were all open

And the wooden floor creaked

When I stood upon them

And the leaves twirled passed me

And I grabbed hold of my heart before it too blew away

Disasterdly, waiting to happen.

I have never broken a single bone in my entire body all my life

And yet my heart has shattered into a million ivory pieces

Like a rare thing, an endangered almost extinct curiosity,

My heart sank deep.

Swept away by some unknown force,

Pieces of me took flight

And scattered about the night

In drawers they found secrets

And lay under cover

Ready to be found again.

And I did find them

But I had to use a magnet

As strong and as big as the universe

And Mercury rose and pulled me towards

Myself

For the first time in two years.

The actor in me was saved

The theatre of my life began again

And the stage was set for the cycle to restart

This time with a broken heart.

womeninmusic:

“Beck’s bass player (Justin Meldal-Johnsen) suggested I do a cover of Slayer’s “Raining Blood”. I was reading about what was going on in Afghanistan—the way women were being oppressed, the destruction of religious statues. And when I heard that song, I just imagined a huge juicy vagina coming out of the sky, raining blood over all those racist, misogynist fuckers.” ~ Tori Amos

(Source: )

With you I lived as a single person but with that burden of loving someone whom I always left the door open for to come in and wipe her feet.

You are an emotional canyon I cannot ever cross or bridge. That distance is often an abyss I get lost in.

ghosts 

I had a lover. Focus on yourself, she said. Don’t think of me. So I did. How sad. So strange. So easy to become a ghost. So terrible to be haunted by oneself. And now I jump at the sound of my own beating heart.

But Lover, I remember you. I think of you. I haunt you like a dead hunter. I traded my soul for yours. I died to give birth to us. I did not do this in vain. I believe it to be romantic. I did not know, however, that you were afraid of ghosts.

Forgetfulness 

I keep forgetting who I am 

Someone more than this  

Someone deeper and more ancient

Someone less concerned with the day to day    

But I too often forget  who I am

And exist only in this weird one dimensional reality of me  

Which is the immediate present.

Yes, you love the ocean 

Yes you love the ocean

It will drift you where it wants

And drown you at any given chance

Yes the ocean is wild and mighty

It’s surf will push you forward

It’s tide will pull you further

To think you can out swim it

Or hold your lungs and breath forever

Is reckless and foolish, a sentence to death at best.

And yes, to feel reckless and wild and foolish is to feel free

And yes the spray on your face is invigorating and makes you feel alive

And yes the way it’s waves beat you down and throw you around

Is terrifying and terffific all at once.

But just once I wish you’d hold my hand while drowning in the sea.

"I can’t decide if I’m better off miserable with or without you."