serendipity and the library

to the bearded man with whom i shared an elevator this afternoon:

you asked if i was an artist. i smiled and shook my head no. you then asked, "what do you mean no? there's no such thing as an aspiring artist. no matter where you are in your progression, you are no less than the greatest of all. the only difference is how far you are willing to let your passion take you." then you got off and disappeared.

mythic.

thank you. i am now reconsidering my entire life.

DEFINITION:

artist [ahr-tist]: One, such as a painter, sculptor, or writer, who is able by virtue of imagination and talent or skill to create works of aesthetic value, especially in the fine arts.

What, then, is art?

[ahrt]: the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance.

sleepidelirium

do you ever wake up with specific lines to add to your scholarly article about derridean theory and shakespeare going through your head? here's what i woke up with after afternoonnap:

"you snake nmeses!"

nmeses, which of course means enemy, coming from "nemesis". and thus, with this evil, combined with her good, the whole is made complete. combining both, they are made one.

i dreamt i was on a precipice, in a hut balancing the line between two worlds. one after another, they walked the stone wall, one by one they conquered their fears. watching them reach the platform, one. by. one., my shaking shook more, my balance unbalanced itself, until i unraveled, there between drums, students, and unpainted canvases.

confession:

i get goosebumps every time i hear elton john sing "candle in the wind" and i don't know why. it kind of is bothering me.