Never stopped being amazed. Ever. And for good reasons.

As the journey progressed, the sights became more and more interesting. Each new one became more informed than the last one. The layers of beauty increased with the slow and steady unavoidable progression of things. Nobody had ever told him it would be this way. Nobody had ever prepared him for this. Nobody had ever explained it this way. The darkness was supposed to be all enveloping by now. The pains were supposed to be debilitating by now. The young ones were supposed to rule the world by now. He was supposed to be out of the plains of surprises and wonder... and dug deep in the trenches of disillusionment. But instead the same objects and places, revisited, became more and more informed. More interesting. More beautiful. Deeper. Still new. People became more and more transparent. More interesting. Deeper. Still new. Yes, the clarity of vision was slowly giving way to the warmth and comfort of decisions made in the past. But that was not as bad as he had feared... Every single one of the moments given could be declared glorious. And there were miles and miles and years and years of those ahead. He never stopped being amazed. Ever.


Exactly so!

It is nice to read of this and have it documented. I like how you see into life and then can actually express the ever so sublte awareness without losing that special something that is so elusive. Quite a neat skill you have!

Walking down the sidewalk--the shop windows have me looking at ornate crab-like purses, ok neat--and other stuff a girl should need... on the other hand, there's the curb, some parked cars in the dark--just an ordinary street--no polish, no charismatic oil slick, no damp streetlight reflection, no Black & Mild plastic tit, no Marlboro filter... Just a sidewalk--and on the other hand--neon rooms full of neon things, books about boobies, long black dresses, and shoes that look like they were all made for the same girl--I met her once, but I never touched her. If the stores were always closed we might forget we were in 3D, and all the shops would blur together, like the craters on the face of a small stone, that's asking with a poignant weight to be thrown with weakling arms, some microscopic distance, not even into orbit. All haste, just the rustling of leaves at the edge of some massive parking lot--or the swirling of moondust round the wheels of an SUV stuck after too many centuries parked on the moon.

keep showing your works of art. I want to be amazed. Although, remember I take one day at a time. That is all. I could die tomorrow. But, God is in my hands helping me through each and everyday. Shari

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This page contains a single entry by Witold published on August 14, 2004 7:42 PM.

Simple bait for the moon... was the previous entry in this blog.

about the moments of self induced pain and about the explanation of the letters HC on a limited edition print. is the next entry in this blog.

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