I like to work molding magic situations where magic really happens because I'm acerience the subtle layer of reality antary which is actually all one thing and my path as an is my ecause and gold symxactly where i want th unglue inside in a also the little bathn because there I live I felt suspended I and no one knew about me but myself and I smiled alone in a pact with myself ll alwalr night the the blue glow with black and gold ie that s my hair andhen i hold inr and gold i symbolize mechoice of whet to of the world I imagine very quickly even every corner including on the otherne that everything was silent even thouwere so many and broth watched the golI widen light that came through the window of my bedroom in back scorching afternoon sun

Result #1

that they were all as more in a black after for all than the night was black and that is why I saw black as mike grey in the single night I just had in this anotherpily. But the colors are so hot, the lights so bright, as I see how it was, in a big bar, a lot like the hotel that I like to stay in where I want it and the food is so hot but you cant get it through the windows, in the dunes; the river is green and the sunset is just behind the bar and theyre the same color.And if there are no seven on the drawing, I don't want to get in trouble.The sky is blue and a bottle of chardonnay in a mountain and black and white and the moon is full, dazzlingly hot and it looks like the moon of spring, sun and shade.Lets get back to her. Thats not saying that she doesnt still have her charms. The only attraction is that the colors are all interesting—a half moon and a little diamond. What else is there to see, her lines are perfect and her pastel color is stellar but the paintings are more than a happy coincidence? I like the colors but theyre so hot, theyre blinding, I think they might be a little too bright.

Result #2

the sky over the top of my skull like a burning sunbaked man with his chops on fire I am a kid with a superintrovertie, a superbright child, I love working with black humor because it is not bad fun and im damn proud of it, Im not one to mess around with criticism its a card for the cards of this sort and its also good enough to have a second and third position for the next wishful consciousness about them and when they are shown a la mode theyre reluctant to be complicit with them in meaning the work they are. Its a second-class job, not my job, theres no laughing at all in this kind of art, maybe not even that. Good for me. Its not a big deal. To work with it, if thats what it was, then theres no problem with it, but I dont think theres anything left for me to do with it. I like the things they do. Perhaps theres no such thing as a first impression. In the end its a very reasonable question. The public auteurs public that needs the art it sees and what it hears and who gets that notice and then who reads the pieces and writes about them and who is obliged to absorb them. The way the public works is to be in the middle of the world. Maybe theres something auteur about the public. Maybe Im just in some way in the wrong place, Im certainly not. I work as an artist, maybe in another sort of reality I am more applicable. And the art seems to me to be not just another kind of public but a kind of public art.

Result #3

and made me forget everything thats happened even the name of the house, its but a memory I pass down to myself—a memory with ten minutes left in me before the fuck up. Its something a whisper, in the end, tells me I neednt worry about the next part of my personality. Im just a throwaway with too little talent, or else I just wont go out in the damned night with the vow not to speak to the other person in the night, to think of him and not of what he was. If I am to be believed, its because he invited me in the first place—to fuck in a room with me.

Result #4

since the last three years I think Im exhausted from the,last two years. the same blinding red that a smoker once passes out of the room with its last drops that all that oil for the towns furrows is still coming through and that I cant even show you. The space is still a vacant desert like a stage with a cot and a few tables where I dropped off the screen on which a couple of muggerin kids play the role of the anonymous actor of the million dollar movie of the late 80s. There is a big backpack with a squashed bottle full of paper cupcake wrappers with the words OUTSTAND and HALF-DRUNK next to it that I cannot tell you where but that there is a haunch of it and its a relief to be in the vicinity of it.

Result #5

I like to work molding magic situations where magic really happens because I'm acerience the subtle layer of reality antary which is actually all one thing and my path as an is my ecause and gold symxactly where i want th unglue inside in a also the little bathn because there I live I felt suspended I and no one knew about me but myself and I smiled alone in a pact with myself ll alwalr night the the blue glow with black and gold ie that s my hair andhen i hold inr and gold i symbolize mechoice of whet to of the world I imagine very quickly even every corner including on the otherne that everything was silent even thouwere so many and broth watched the golI widen light that came through the window of my bedroom in back scorching afternoon sun through my room in black ice cold that was like a snow and night and i knew what was going to happen and in the darkness I was going to have a fun. This way, Im in the hall at the house of the other half-monsters in the Oleta Land. There the ocean fenced in and exposed to the world at large. Everywhere a shadow fell on it, a strange gray spectral mass that struck me as a kind of bridge between the light of the outside and my own light, the depths of my being. Suddenly one felt, in the rough and sandy earth, the immense breadth of light of the moon and the depth of the ocean between them. Then the woods behind me and my bathroom door were not far from the edge of my mind. I was about to be enveloped in an exhilarating anxiety which kept me from touching it.It was only when I reached the boundary of the life-world of the bathroom door that it was possible to see my girdle from the inside. And I saw it as an intimacy with the sea, a big void that felt like a giant swatch of linen between the door and the wistful soul inside. Im not sure that I've ever felt that way about light as a medium, but when it came down to it I had to choose. I hesitated to cross the threshold and enter the world of the stars. But to have done so meant to be in front of them and to have been part of them and to have been the sun that would be when they moved around the edge.I am a particularly good gardener. I turn off the lightest moments of the night and I sit at the window looking into the sea with the brilliant stars in my minds eye. I cant think of the night being yet old, but then I think of it being so much brighter than my bedroom windows and I realize that I was thinking, I can sit and feel in the stars.