About Me
My personality is a collection of memories, thoughts, projections, and other things from the past that I can't seem to remove myself from because that would mean I am not really what I think that I am.
I like art and philosophy and mysticism. I like weird movies. I like to listen to good music. I like to paint. I like to read parts of books and look at all the pictures. I like to sit around and stare. I like to think about nothing. I like invigorating conversation. I like to party and eat good food with out arms i have a big piece of cake on the canvas painting itself full of wishes to make a wobbly mockery of itself without opinions to guide it towards its impending destiny of doom.
i really felt that you were shattering the atmosphere around me, that you were creating a void in order to allow me to progress, in order to offer the expanse for an impossible space to that which within me was potentiality only, to a whole virtual germination that must be sucked into life by the interval which offered itselfoften i placed myself in this state of impossible absurdity in order to try and generate thought inside myself. There are a few of us, in this era, who attempted to attack things, to create within ourselves the intervals of life, which didn't exist and moreover didn't seem ever to belong in space.I have always been struck by the obstinancy of the mind in insisting on thinking in terms of dimensions and intervals, in adhering to arbitrary states of things in order to think, in thinking in segments, in crystalloids, in thinking that every mode of being solidifies at a starting point, that thought not be in instant and uninterrupted contact with things, but that this fixation and this immobilization, this kind of erection of the soul into monuments, arises into being, so to speak, BEFORE THOUGHT. This is obviously the ideal condition for creativity.But I am struck still more by that unrelenting, that meteoric illusion which instills in us these finite, planned and predetermined architectures, these crystallized segements of the soul, as if they were a huge malleable sheet in osmosis with all the rest of reallity, and surreality is like a contraction of osmosis, a kind of communication turned inside-outfar from a weakening of control, I see here on the contrary a far greater control, but one which instead of acting remains on guard, a control which blocks contact with commonplace reality and allows these more subtle and rarified contacts, bared down to the thread which ignites and yet never breaks apart-antonin artaud
some of my art is online here
and here's a little something...
.. make
your
profile
cool
MySpace Editor Rasheed Richmond
cosmic space stained dirty sock tied into knots of desolution with sprinkles of rainbow transmutations and other typical forms of neurostalgia
