“Of all that is written, I love only what a person has written with his own blood”
dinsdag 22 januari 2013
zondag 20 januari 2013
vrijdag 14 december 2012
How he remembers you:
You look, but you don't see.
woensdag 12 december 2012
Soliloquy # 006
Nevertheless, I wonder
If you cut yourself
With the knife
I gave you
If you cut yourself
With the knife
I gave you
zondag 25 november 2012
dinsdag 6 november 2012
Bend or break - (or, choose)
I love the way some people ruin their lives, just by being who they are not.
I try not to live that way.
maandag 5 november 2012
I should paint, more.
I haven't been drawing, sketching or painting the past two months and I start to feel empty inside.
Today I had a conversation with a stranger (who apparently knew me) about painting with your own blood (which he thought I did).
I love the color of fresh blood. The bright red... or crimson... but I don't like the color of dried up, dead blood.
I'd rather paint with my soul.
Today I had a conversation with a stranger (who apparently knew me) about painting with your own blood (which he thought I did).
I love the color of fresh blood. The bright red... or crimson... but I don't like the color of dried up, dead blood.
I'd rather paint with my soul.
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