I met an artist online. Very interesting, he is. He paints and composes Eno-esque music and reams of whimsy. Says people don't understand him.
I know the feeling.
But Van Gogh's yellows are turning brown, they say. What oh what will happen to his sun flowers?!
I have an uncertain future, and my present is shaky, but today I made music.
What more could a person ask for?
I considered dogs, pick-ups and 8 track tapes. I forgot about universalities and eternity.
That's a good thing.
I'm still waiting on important mail to be delivered. And the positive change that could occur.
Anything's possible.
Will Van Gogh's stars look like meatballs in the night sky? His suns, slices of fried bologna? Let's get going on the technology to prevent that. I mean, the man cut off his own ear because he was misunderstood and unappreciated in his life-time. Talk about suffering! He suffered enough, I posit.
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You've stopped responding to my posts on BOGL. What's up with that? Are they just not worthy?
ReplyDeleteI wasn't even sure you read the responses. I felt kinda silly posting them. I always appreciate and read your comments, though.
ReplyDeleteFor some reason I don't get notified if you reply to my comment, so I have to look or else I don't get them. That said, I do try to check them. I guess it's not a terribly effective means of communication. I can't believe you've hit 667 posts! I'm a miserable failure of a blogger.
ReplyDeleteKeep it coming Jimmi.