If you were in Verona, you weren't far from me, dear.
I miss you and I love your words. As I read this, I realized that you could write the most fantastic autobiography in a few years... that could easily be turned into an artistic dark dramadey.
Also, those images of death.... they're wonderufl. At first they strike and shock me... but then as I look at them, death smacking me in the face, I'm filled with appriciation, remorse, and a certain amount of disharmony and uneasiness. I like that in my art.
You outdo all your former words every time that you weave new ones, and how you WEAVE! I am in awe, Holly, truly amazed. I should feel grateful, like this, forever, as long as you are near. You are a strong one, and I wait for you as I wait for lightening's silver veins. Every time you come, it rains and rains, and I am divided in half. Yet pleasantly nourished.
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but oh, & i meant to tell you i love your recent posts of your jrnal.
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feathers do decompose slowly. i always mean to look into their molecular structure.
my job can be strangely lovely at times.
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I miss you and I love your words.
As I read this, I realized that you could write the most fantastic autobiography in a few years... that could easily be turned into an artistic dark dramadey.
Also, those images of death.... they're wonderufl. At first they strike and shock me... but then as I look at them, death smacking me in the face, I'm filled with appriciation, remorse, and a certain amount of disharmony and uneasiness. I like that in my art.
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♥
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