d(ru)gs run free
a match to my nostalgia.
Coming soon.
The Vicious Kind, directed by Lee Toland Krieger.
I awake naked in bed, coughing, sneezing my reconciliation of last night’s cigarettes and alcohol, the indulgence. Then those too often regrets drum, echo pensive through my lungs like a clogged drain, a call to slim the habit, the abuse, the nonsensical. I stumble, pacing cautious steps in my semi-consciousness to the kitchen, pondering the early hour til my eyes adjust to our star’s slow yawn through the curtains from a hazed evening blue to a dull, hammering dawn. A drink of water. It’s then I’m confronted with the sneaking illumination of my tasks for the day. Those responsibilities that insidiously dissolve into ego and mold themselves into form like unending chains. These seemingly relevant, essential, yet utter meaningless structures that so many carelessly cement into existence with little if any hesitance or retrospect, until they’re unlucky souls are left with only an opaque facade of comfort and resolution, albeit a fashionable, aesthetic, pleasing image framed ever so subtle by our modern pop tape measure. How the mirror does abide such covetousness.
Shutter Island, directed by Martin Scorsese. Best Sunday afternoon noir in quite a while.
The strings that weave our heart’s song never rest untangled do they?
Catching the sun on a windy January afternoon near Destin, FL. Kept company with a little bingus and blackberry Stoli for the walk.
Lion project, nearly done.
Once a dove roamed the seas glassing the horizon for a landing, finding only the paper ships of men as bitter sweet refuge. All the time, flying weary with passive defiance, sifting through it’s shadowed memories, motion pictures, rainstorm decisions. Longing for a purpose to pounce blindly as a shark from the blue nowhere. It’s jaws relentless.
One gem from my old jungle sketch book.
Blind luck can’t see it’s way back through time. Can’t set this broken wheel back right defined. But it has kissed rails electric, raised an arson’s kiss to taste the fire. Danced a hurricane of unrestrained wild eyed desire.
