Just a note under my breath: this is frustrating for me. English is not my first language and this is too creative for me to follow. It's the same with the poems of a French friend of mine-- I manage to understand enough French for reading essays, but I can't get inside his experimental poetry. In English, I have problems with Dylan Thomas also, and it's not like translations help: the structure of the specific language is key to the effect and that is not translatable. So here I am feeling like the small figure with his hand to his face, sitting dejectedly beside the fragments of a huge ancient statue in Johann Heinrich Füssli's watercolor "The despair of the artist confronted with the greatness of ancient ruins". Thank you for bringing me to touch my limits with my bare hands.
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I am reduced to incoherence.
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Thank you for bringing me to touch my limits with my bare hands.
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the Gaga Lady
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this is awesome and i think you painted the perfect picture of the sadness of an empty picture.
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