this is the first day in over a year and two months that i have been in this account. lull, lull, lull. it's strange going over things i've recorded and written in the past. rachael, how much you've changed! you've got your head and your heavy soul, now you need your roots and tree. rachael, don't stay still too long. rachael, finish growing up. i'm so happy.

i haven't created much visual "art" this past year and two months. the audio though has been fluent. i love speaking through music. i have developed my abilities to capture in melody and rhythm exactly what i feel, where words have failed.

i do, though,have this nagging intuition begging me to remember how happy i feel with a camera and a big idea. maybe human nature in the art world discouraged me. art is not for fame, for fortune. too many strut theirs about as haughty product. "art" fart. if you are human then you are an artist in some area of the broad, vague term. the end. there are infinite sides to everything and every human is right in their one way and wrong in their other.

hmm.... rachael, promise me you'll get on that visual, record your evidence. art in shadows. i don't want to be remembered for something i've created. i want anything i create to be anonymous, for someone to walk by, absorb, and feel their soul become heavy as mine was when i shitted it onto the medium. hey, paul, those pizza boxes and spray paint?

and, this is private these days. how good. i'll stick everything real and unreal right here.


"History...Read it and weep."