MAY 2026
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FRIDAY MAY 22 907A
MY ART IS THE PRACTICE OF EVERYDAY LIFE. OFTEN THERE ISN’T SO MUCH TO SHOW. I SEE THINGS, I LOOK AT THINGS. I TAKE PHOTOS, REFERENCE. I WRITE THINGS, SKETCH THINGS. LATER, I GO BACK AND ARRANGE THINGS, COMPOSE THINGS. MAKE A COMPOSITION. AFTER I’VE LIVED IT. I GIVE THINGS A NEW LIFE. SEEING THROUGHLINES AMONG THINGS, PATTERNS. WAYS OF THINKING, WAYS OF SEEING. WORDS AND IMAGES. MY FIRST BOOK IS A BOOK OF WORDS. MY NEXT BOOK WILL BE A BOOK OF IMAGES. AFTER THAT I THINK IT WILL BE BOTH, A MIX.
WORDS AND IMAGES. HOW WE EXIST. HOW WE SEE AND UNDERSTAND THINGS. HOW WE MAKE MEANING—HOW MEANING IS MADE FOR, AND UNTO US. HOW WE SEE AND THINK INDIVIDUALLY, COLLECTIVELY. I JUST THINK IT’S FASCINATING TO BE A PERSON. IN A BRAIN. I THINK IT’S FASCINATING TO BE ALIVE! I WATCH MYSELF, FOLLOW MYSELF, LISTEN TO MYSELF, AND THINGS HAPPEN. LIFE HAPPENS; I HAPPEN. IT’S WHEN I GIVE MYSELF UP THAT I FEEL MOST MYSELF—TO FEELING, TO INSTINCT. THIS SCARED ME MOST OF MY LIFE. IT SCARED ME TO ACT ON IMPULSE, TO TRUST MYSELF, TO TRUST THE WORLD. MAYBE THAT’S WHY I FIND IT SO FASCINATING NOW, SO NOVEL. LIVING IS NEW TO ME. I THINK IT WILL ALWAYS BE NEW TO ME.
WHEN I WRITE, I GIVE MYSELF UP. I DON’T THINK—I JUST HAPPEN. WORDS HAPPEN. IF I QUESTION THEM TOO MUCH THEY DON’T COME, DON’T FEEL WELCOME, ARE UNINVITED. SAME WITH IMPULSE. IF I SUPPRESS MY IMPULSES, THEY DON’T FEEL SAFE AND THEY RETREAT, LIKELY TO APPEAR LESS AND LESS UNTIL THEY DISAPPEAR. THEN I MUST WELCOME THEM BACK, INVITE THEM IN WITH WARMTH AND A SAFE SPACE, A NON-JUDGEMENTAL SPACE. OPEN SPACE. FREE TO BE, TO THINK, TO FEEL. FREE SPACE. FREEDOM. THAT’S WHAT FREEDOM IS TO ME. FREEDOM FROM—EVERYTHING. AND THAT’S WHAT MAKING IS TO ME.
FREEDOM IS A LACK OF FEAR. WHEN I FEEL THESE RARE MOMENTS (AND I REFUSE TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT WHILE IT HAPPENS, I ONLY LIVE IN IT), THE RARE PURE MOMENTS OF FREEDOM, I AM FREE OF FEAR, FULL OF TRUST. IN WHAT? IN THE UNKNOWN.
I LIVE IN THE UNKNOWN AND I WATCH MY SELF HAPPEN—THAT IS FREEDOM. I GUESS MY WORK IS ABOUT FREEDOM. AND ITS OPPOSITE, FEAR. I AM OBSESSED WITH (I KNOW BY INSTINCT) GRIDS, BOXES, CAGES, LINES; TENSION, LIMITS, EXTREMES; CONTRAST, DUALITY. BECAUSE I FEEL THIS WITHIN MY SELF, AND ALSO OUTSIDE OF ME. I FEEL THE DISSONANCE, THE DUALITY, THE TENSION WITHIN MYSELF; I FEEL THE SAME TENSION BETWEEN THIS SELF AND ALL THAT IS NOT ME. BETWEEN MYSELF AS THE INTERNAL AND ALL THAT IS EXTERNAL, ALL THAT IS OTHER. MY PERCEPTION OF MYSELF, MY PERCEPTION OF THE OTHER—I AM ALSO OBSESSED WITH PERCEPTION. HOW WE SEE, HOW WE MAKE MEANING, WHAT IS TRUTH, HOW DO WE KNOW. HOW MEANING IS TIED TO PERCEPTION, HOW TO SKEW AND ALTER AND DISTORT THAT. THROUGH OBJECTS, THROUGH TIME—IN SUBTLE, SUBTLE CHANGES.
I’M QUIET. I’M SUBTLE. I LIKE TO KEEP THINGS TO MYSELF. LIFE IS VERY FASCINATING TO ME AND LIKE A CHILD I WANT TO PROTECT THIS WONDER. I WANT TO LIVE IN THE AWE OF LIFE, AND TO DO SO, I FEEL I MUST BE PROTECTIVE OF IT. PROTECT THIS FRAGILE FLEETING FEELING THAT DRIVES MY DESIRE TO LIVE. TO PUT THIS FEELING INTO THE WORLD LIKE A SIGNAL, IN SILENT HOPES OF GETTING A RETURN. THAT, IS THE BEAUTY OF SHARING—
THE SLIM CHANCE TO FEEL RESONANCE WITH ANOTHER. TO PERMEATE THE BOUNDARIES OF SELF AND OTHER, DIMINISH THE EDGES BETWEEN YOU AND I.
TO FEEL LESS ALONE IN A WORLD SO INTERNAL.
IN WORDS, IN IMAGES—THAT IS MY INTERNAL.
THE SLIM CHANCE TO FEEL YOUR SELF IN ANOTHER. TO SEE YOUR INTERNAL IN ANOTHER’S INTERNAL, TO KNOW THIS INTERNAL IS NOT ALONE.
WORDS AND IMAGES. HOW WE EXIST. HOW WE SEE AND UNDERSTAND THINGS. HOW WE MAKE MEANING—HOW MEANING IS MADE FOR, AND UNTO US. HOW WE SEE AND THINK INDIVIDUALLY, COLLECTIVELY. I JUST THINK IT’S FASCINATING TO BE A PERSON. IN A BRAIN. I THINK IT’S FASCINATING TO BE ALIVE! I WATCH MYSELF, FOLLOW MYSELF, LISTEN TO MYSELF, AND THINGS HAPPEN. LIFE HAPPENS; I HAPPEN. IT’S WHEN I GIVE MYSELF UP THAT I FEEL MOST MYSELF—TO FEELING, TO INSTINCT. THIS SCARED ME MOST OF MY LIFE. IT SCARED ME TO ACT ON IMPULSE, TO TRUST MYSELF, TO TRUST THE WORLD. MAYBE THAT’S WHY I FIND IT SO FASCINATING NOW, SO NOVEL. LIVING IS NEW TO ME. I THINK IT WILL ALWAYS BE NEW TO ME.
WHEN I WRITE, I GIVE MYSELF UP. I DON’T THINK—I JUST HAPPEN. WORDS HAPPEN. IF I QUESTION THEM TOO MUCH THEY DON’T COME, DON’T FEEL WELCOME, ARE UNINVITED. SAME WITH IMPULSE. IF I SUPPRESS MY IMPULSES, THEY DON’T FEEL SAFE AND THEY RETREAT, LIKELY TO APPEAR LESS AND LESS UNTIL THEY DISAPPEAR. THEN I MUST WELCOME THEM BACK, INVITE THEM IN WITH WARMTH AND A SAFE SPACE, A NON-JUDGEMENTAL SPACE. OPEN SPACE. FREE TO BE, TO THINK, TO FEEL. FREE SPACE. FREEDOM. THAT’S WHAT FREEDOM IS TO ME. FREEDOM FROM—EVERYTHING. AND THAT’S WHAT MAKING IS TO ME.
FREEDOM IS A LACK OF FEAR. WHEN I FEEL THESE RARE MOMENTS (AND I REFUSE TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT WHILE IT HAPPENS, I ONLY LIVE IN IT), THE RARE PURE MOMENTS OF FREEDOM, I AM FREE OF FEAR, FULL OF TRUST. IN WHAT? IN THE UNKNOWN.
I LIVE IN THE UNKNOWN AND I WATCH MY SELF HAPPEN—THAT IS FREEDOM. I GUESS MY WORK IS ABOUT FREEDOM. AND ITS OPPOSITE, FEAR. I AM OBSESSED WITH (I KNOW BY INSTINCT) GRIDS, BOXES, CAGES, LINES; TENSION, LIMITS, EXTREMES; CONTRAST, DUALITY. BECAUSE I FEEL THIS WITHIN MY SELF, AND ALSO OUTSIDE OF ME. I FEEL THE DISSONANCE, THE DUALITY, THE TENSION WITHIN MYSELF; I FEEL THE SAME TENSION BETWEEN THIS SELF AND ALL THAT IS NOT ME. BETWEEN MYSELF AS THE INTERNAL AND ALL THAT IS EXTERNAL, ALL THAT IS OTHER. MY PERCEPTION OF MYSELF, MY PERCEPTION OF THE OTHER—I AM ALSO OBSESSED WITH PERCEPTION. HOW WE SEE, HOW WE MAKE MEANING, WHAT IS TRUTH, HOW DO WE KNOW. HOW MEANING IS TIED TO PERCEPTION, HOW TO SKEW AND ALTER AND DISTORT THAT. THROUGH OBJECTS, THROUGH TIME—IN SUBTLE, SUBTLE CHANGES.
I’M QUIET. I’M SUBTLE. I LIKE TO KEEP THINGS TO MYSELF. LIFE IS VERY FASCINATING TO ME AND LIKE A CHILD I WANT TO PROTECT THIS WONDER. I WANT TO LIVE IN THE AWE OF LIFE, AND TO DO SO, I FEEL I MUST BE PROTECTIVE OF IT. PROTECT THIS FRAGILE FLEETING FEELING THAT DRIVES MY DESIRE TO LIVE. TO PUT THIS FEELING INTO THE WORLD LIKE A SIGNAL, IN SILENT HOPES OF GETTING A RETURN. THAT, IS THE BEAUTY OF SHARING—
THE SLIM CHANCE TO FEEL RESONANCE WITH ANOTHER. TO PERMEATE THE BOUNDARIES OF SELF AND OTHER, DIMINISH THE EDGES BETWEEN YOU AND I.
TO FEEL LESS ALONE IN A WORLD SO INTERNAL.
IN WORDS, IN IMAGES—THAT IS MY INTERNAL.
THE SLIM CHANCE TO FEEL YOUR SELF IN ANOTHER. TO SEE YOUR INTERNAL IN ANOTHER’S INTERNAL, TO KNOW THIS INTERNAL IS NOT ALONE.
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TUESDAY MAY 5
HAVE YOU EVER WOKEN UP?
ON THIS DAY, ON THIS VERY DAY YOU WAKE UP, NOT FROM A SLEEP THAT YOU KNOW BY THE NAME OF SLEEP, BUT BY A SLEEP YOU HAVE ONLY COME TO KNOW BECAUSE YOU HAVE AWOKEN FROM IT. AS THOUGH THE EYE HAS SEEN A NEW COLOR, THAT WITHOUT A NAME, THAT WITHOUT WORDS—THAT EXPERIENCE THAT CANNOT BE EXPLAINED EXCEPT BY EXPERIENCING.
ON THIS DAY, YOU COME TO KNOW A NEW AWAKENING, BECAUSE YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED A NEW SLEEP. IT IS AS IF ALL THE WORLD HAS BEEN ASLEEP UNTIL THIS VERY NOW; NOW, ALL THE WORLD HAS BEEN AWAKENED. YOU HAVE NOT LOOKED FOR IT, NO, YOU HAVE NOT SUMMONED THE WORLD TO AWAKEN ALL AT ONCE, IN THIS VERY INSTANT, FOR YOU TO SEE THAT ALL YOU HAVE DONE UNTIL THIS VERY MOMENT HAS BEEN IN A SLUMBER. OR, THE WORLD HAS BEEN IN A SLUMBER, AND IS JUST NOW WAKING UP TO YOU.
EITHER WAY, YES, EITHER WAY, SOMETHING HAS AWOKEN, EITHER YOU, OR THE WORLD. EVERYTHING IS ALIVE NOW. EVERYTHING HAS THAT QUALITY OF LIFE A THING HAS WHEN IT HAS JUST BEEN BORN, WHEN IT HAS JUST AWOKEN—FULL OF AWE, SATURATED WITH LIGHTNESS AND GOODNESS, DEVOID OF HARD LIFE. AND EVERYTHING IS FULL OF THIS LIGHTNESS—YOUR SELF, TOO, HAS JUST AWOKEN.
NOTHING CARRIES A QUALITY OF DEFINITION. EVERYTHING IS FULL OF LIGHTNESS BECAUSE IT DOES NOT CARRY THE BURDEN OF A NAME. YES, EVERYTHING HAS JUST AWOKEN. EVERYTHING IS EXPERIENCING ITSELF FOR THE FIRST TIME—HOW SENSUAL! WATCH, IT IS ALL GETTING ACQUAINTED. IT SETTLES INTO ITS FORM AND THINKS, “AT LAST, I AM HOME!” I AM RIGHT WHERE I AM, YOU THINK, I AM RIGHT WHERE I NEED TO BE, AS IF IT WERE NEVER A QUESTION.
AND WITH THIS BEING, THIS NEWFOUND SENSE OF BEING, YOU TAKE YOUR SELF INTO THE STREETS, BECOME AQUAINTED WITH YOU SELF AS YOU MEET THE PAVEMENT, THE SIDEWALK, THE SHOP WINDOWS. YOUR NEIGHBORS, TOO, YOU MEET, WITH A TIP OF YOUR HAT AND A BOW OF YOUR HEAD. THE PASSERBYS, YOU WONDER IF THEY SEE YOUR NEWNESS, IF IT IS LEAPING OUT OF YOU AND ONTO THEM, IF THEY RECOGNIZE THIS NEW QUALITY ABOUT YOU ALTHOUGH YOU’VE NEVER MET. “I MUST BE SHINING,” YOU THINK TO YOURSELF, “WITH ALL THIS LIGHTNESS!”
AND WITHOUT RESOLVE, WITHOUT CARE OR FEAR, YOU CONTINUE ALONG AMONG STRANGER AND FRIEND, CARRYING WITH YOU ALWAYS A STRANGE AND LIGHTNESS OF BEING.
ON THIS DAY, ON THIS VERY DAY YOU WAKE UP, NOT FROM A SLEEP THAT YOU KNOW BY THE NAME OF SLEEP, BUT BY A SLEEP YOU HAVE ONLY COME TO KNOW BECAUSE YOU HAVE AWOKEN FROM IT. AS THOUGH THE EYE HAS SEEN A NEW COLOR, THAT WITHOUT A NAME, THAT WITHOUT WORDS—THAT EXPERIENCE THAT CANNOT BE EXPLAINED EXCEPT BY EXPERIENCING.
ON THIS DAY, YOU COME TO KNOW A NEW AWAKENING, BECAUSE YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED A NEW SLEEP. IT IS AS IF ALL THE WORLD HAS BEEN ASLEEP UNTIL THIS VERY NOW; NOW, ALL THE WORLD HAS BEEN AWAKENED. YOU HAVE NOT LOOKED FOR IT, NO, YOU HAVE NOT SUMMONED THE WORLD TO AWAKEN ALL AT ONCE, IN THIS VERY INSTANT, FOR YOU TO SEE THAT ALL YOU HAVE DONE UNTIL THIS VERY MOMENT HAS BEEN IN A SLUMBER. OR, THE WORLD HAS BEEN IN A SLUMBER, AND IS JUST NOW WAKING UP TO YOU.
EITHER WAY, YES, EITHER WAY, SOMETHING HAS AWOKEN, EITHER YOU, OR THE WORLD. EVERYTHING IS ALIVE NOW. EVERYTHING HAS THAT QUALITY OF LIFE A THING HAS WHEN IT HAS JUST BEEN BORN, WHEN IT HAS JUST AWOKEN—FULL OF AWE, SATURATED WITH LIGHTNESS AND GOODNESS, DEVOID OF HARD LIFE. AND EVERYTHING IS FULL OF THIS LIGHTNESS—YOUR SELF, TOO, HAS JUST AWOKEN.
NOTHING CARRIES A QUALITY OF DEFINITION. EVERYTHING IS FULL OF LIGHTNESS BECAUSE IT DOES NOT CARRY THE BURDEN OF A NAME. YES, EVERYTHING HAS JUST AWOKEN. EVERYTHING IS EXPERIENCING ITSELF FOR THE FIRST TIME—HOW SENSUAL! WATCH, IT IS ALL GETTING ACQUAINTED. IT SETTLES INTO ITS FORM AND THINKS, “AT LAST, I AM HOME!” I AM RIGHT WHERE I AM, YOU THINK, I AM RIGHT WHERE I NEED TO BE, AS IF IT WERE NEVER A QUESTION.
AND WITH THIS BEING, THIS NEWFOUND SENSE OF BEING, YOU TAKE YOUR SELF INTO THE STREETS, BECOME AQUAINTED WITH YOU SELF AS YOU MEET THE PAVEMENT, THE SIDEWALK, THE SHOP WINDOWS. YOUR NEIGHBORS, TOO, YOU MEET, WITH A TIP OF YOUR HAT AND A BOW OF YOUR HEAD. THE PASSERBYS, YOU WONDER IF THEY SEE YOUR NEWNESS, IF IT IS LEAPING OUT OF YOU AND ONTO THEM, IF THEY RECOGNIZE THIS NEW QUALITY ABOUT YOU ALTHOUGH YOU’VE NEVER MET. “I MUST BE SHINING,” YOU THINK TO YOURSELF, “WITH ALL THIS LIGHTNESS!”
AND WITHOUT RESOLVE, WITHOUT CARE OR FEAR, YOU CONTINUE ALONG AMONG STRANGER AND FRIEND, CARRYING WITH YOU ALWAYS A STRANGE AND LIGHTNESS OF BEING.
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MY ROCK COLLECTION
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