There seems to be these lines we follow based on the horizons. These things we can’t see right in front of us – the other side of a table, the thinnest line cutting a building from the sky and the invisible division between foreground and background. My visions of these visuals inspire in me a movement – a momentum – to go somewhere and do something. And this world’s physics bring in me a brand-new life every time another line adds itself to my perceptual field. And another one – and here’s one more. They could be curved, straight, dotted or atomically sized – it doesn’t matter as they overwhelm me. They all lead my fingers to move alongside their powerful impositions. I’ll never know where they end and that’s okay. But I can’t stop encountering their ends and their shattering. The lines shatter like a Picasso – in shapes of shards and puzzles heaped staccato manū mīlitārī. Where would they go? What’s next in my visual field? I can’t tell you now but I’ll be able to understand it in some other upcoming now.
The rhythm never stops: one continuous line meets disturbance. The pace may change but the brutality of the now breaks in me as I go on. The door gets kicked a thousand times. As my eyes blink, shift and move so much and the light from a room with infinite ratios and sizes gets to me – I notice the violence that’s inherent in it all. There’s violence in this sturdy table and just as much on these steps demanding of me that I not go through. I can’t go where I want – especially because you are here. It suddenly dawns on me that life might be a cubic painting in the making – there will be a momentum born to be broken in random spades – shades – and meaningful feathers. In this way the volitions of the world are guided by the stoppable and renewable freedoms of one another. Your freedom lays out a trap for my own. We are not cookie-cutter molds, we are the cookie-cutters of cookie-cutter molds.
I moved alongside the physics that were given to me before I knew it. The strangest thing, though, is what inspires me to stand or move within my eyes when something appears in front of me. Like when I see a painting, my eyes shift from side to side, up or down and move along the brush strokes of the artist. The painting vibrates – literally and existentially – such that I want to live. I’m gonna break some of these lines like a cubist to show you some fucked up polygons you’ve never seen. I’m gonna draw my life like Banksy such that you won’t notice me and the brushstrokes I made a few canvas ago. I’m gonna live like art because your love is monochrome and I just can’t feel in one color.