From where I stand

I’m an artist first and foremost. But people just want to hear about how I make money. It puzzles me, because don’t make that much. I just save beautiful things.

Yet above the frustration of bringing something up and out and not seeing it shine like it did on my mind, I’m thankful.

My mind tends to forget, and art, or whatever you want to call it, captures stuff. Makes it not go away. There’s a wonderful thing with art and it’s that makes things simultaneously over and never over. In the liveable area of the past.

I fear death like one fears the inevitable: like holidays ending are scary, like Sunday afternoon is scary sometimes. Just a little, then. It will come, but it can’t overcome me now. I fear forgetting the beauty I see, I fear that others are missing the summer I see. I capture summer seconds for winter days, I capture joy for when I’m sad.

I capture me for when I’m gone.

So here I am. I won’t be here forever. But maybe this will.


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