noedit / 4.25.24 / artist statement number eight

I want to unfold my imagination.

I want to explore the naive.

I want to roll around in piles of kibble while a hundred puppies eat.

I want to become the absurd.

I want to channel the sound of the water that rages through the clocks.

I want to waggle.

I want to tangle with words like a sacred bird in a sixpack skein.

I want to hang on the halyard and scrounge about in the detritus of my own lost breeze.

I want to wake up very very very very very early to find out what my bones are thinking.

I want to wear bearskins at the barndance.

I want to flow into the o u t e r a n d i n n e r m o s t s p a c e s .

I want to write.

I – – – – unfold my imagination.

I – – – – explore the naive.

I – – – – roll around in piles of kibble while a hundred puppies eat.

I – – – – become the absurd.

I – – – – channel the sound of the water that rages through the clocks.

I – – – – waggle.

I – – – – tangle with words like a sacred bird in a sixpack skein.

I – – – – hang on the halyard and scrounge about in the detritus of my own lost breeze.

I – – – – wake up very very very very very early to find out what my bones are thinking.

I – – – – wear bearskins at the barndance.

I – – – – flow into the o u t e r a n d i n n e r m o s t s p a c e s .

I – – – – write.