octobes

October 20, 2009

it’s the sweetest feeling to sit inside piano runs and light drums, while pulling b-roll from nice tapes!

i get impatient doing shloompatey work at work, but some nights i feel blessed.

with the chill in the air and the clean, good cold smell, it’s impossible not to feel charged.

art art art art art

i get this physical imagery (um, sensation? imagining an experience complete with physical sensation and fleshed out in a detailed visual way?) of wolverine-the-character-type metal bar-claws flawlessly (no sticking or stops) reaming through my forearms, topside. the exposed furrows are cooling steaming, bloodletting and cleaning. making way for new, stronger, holier flesh! right now on my forearms, maybe because i’m typing and at work. but along my upper chest too, making it easier to breathe lungfuls and keening silver under my clavicles.
on my temples, short slashes. my stomach, health. a profound pantheon of physical pyres – a burning for new life.

i love the cold weather, even though i’m a weakling. no, not a weakling, just spoiled and prone to being contrary.

uh. i mean that i can think when i’m walking in the cold, vs the slow sweet bovine feelings-feeling of the warmth. who needs that? i was born there. i only grow in the cold.

back to work, chiiildren.

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