“The hardest part of art is making it look easy.”
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Have you ever noticed dogs seem to have a set level of energy, like a quota or something? Big dog’s are really chill because all of their energy is spread out over their whole body, and they just lope around and lick your hand and stuff. But little dogs, all their energy is compacted into this tiny little body, so their eyes are always wide open and they skitter around yapping “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WOAH EVERYTHING IS MOVING SO FAST AND BRIGHT AND I NEED TO KNOW YOUR NAME I’M HUNGRY YOU’RE SCARING ME STAY AWAY STAY AWAY COME BACK I HATE YOU YOU’RE THE BEST I LOVE YOU OH MY GOD!”
Taking more than you require
Lays but logs upon the fire.
Learn to listen and admire
Those who contradict desire.
At 3:44am, when it’s still pitch dark, a bird started chirping. I wonder if birds ever have nightmares and can’t go back to sleep. Around 4:15 I took video of the glowing orange sky over the familiar hill in the near distance, and of the moon which shone brightly still. The cute little birds that you wouldn’t mind feeding start chirping around 4:00. I primarily wanted to catch audio of the birds chirping for any future audio/visual needs. The sunrise is gorgeous and floods straight in through the front windows. The day fills up so quickly with light, but the the big ugly birds wake up with the sun, and ruin the soundtrack. I stare at that hill every day, and now I’ll never look at it the same, having watched it be formed out of darkness under the softness of the sunrise, and flourish in the vibrance of the full, living morning.
Ahh! Why can’t I feel my arm! Poke, poke, hello arm, it’s me. Oh god, I can’t even feel it. I’ve been in the cold before and gone numb, but this is ridiculous. What was I dreaming about? When did I wake up? Oh god, am I still dreaming? I’ve seen Inception, but I can’t spin my little motif on the counter top because my arm’s asleep! That’s dumb. I’m obviously awake. I don’t think this hard when I dream, do I? …Do I? thinking is hard; takes time–like homework and mountain climbing. Then this must be a nightmare.
Maybe my arm is still dreaming. Maybe in my dreams my arm had a mind of its own and refused to stop. It’s the stronger of my two arms, that’s entirely possible… in my dreams! HA! Okay, I’m making bad jokes; I’m definitely awake. What to do, what do? What time is it? Still bed time I presume. Maybe I should make my other arm fall asleep. That’s a legit excuse for skipping work. “Sorry, boss, it took me an hour to call ‘cause I had to dial with my nose, because my arms fell asleep.”
“Both of them?”
“Yeah. Crazy, right?”
“Yeah, I hate when that happens. You can have the day off.” he says. You know what? I think I’ll actually try that.
…Um, yeah; I must be dreaming.
Someone once wrote “We are all alone on this planet.” I never bothered to read it.
There’s a maple tree shaped like a giant hand twisting upwards out of the ground. A sapling of a different species, about 4 feet tall, has taken root in the collection of soil and tree debris gathered in the Maple tree’s ‘palm.’ That’s not how it’s supposed to work. What will happen to the trees when the little one gets bigger? Will the hand tree give way, taking the younger one down with it? Or will the younger one grow weak and flimsy, and falter, having been hoisted out of harm’s way all it’s life?
So few ours in the day.
Roll around in the hey.
I can’t draw; this crayon’s cray.
Fall asleep before you prey.
allmostrelevant 