Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

... and how easily forgotten we become, as if we were guests in a hotel, and the experience of the world becomes an incongruent juxtaposition from which our identities are formed, and while taking its place, only to disappear into a backdrop and brochure of having been ...

... And the records that remain, novelized by the statues in the city square and cathedrals that house them, collecting dust in the books that are created about the incidences and curious affairs of men with guns and how we look for things, lost treasures in the remains and ruins of lost continents and barren islands, where the historical record presents itself as a ghost of swollen egos and lost lovers, in the often remembered places where one has traveled in order to escape the deafening silence of one's existence and to create anew the construct of an idiom or utopia, the next phrase of greatness or the next generation of genius ...

we look for things lost or never dared to explore and roam the continents of meography and self.... and sometimes we , too, get lost for a while or forever as guests in the surreal hostel of existence where travellers come and go and sign in under names such as memory and hope, denial and dream, experience and incident and fantasy and fear - and sometimes they enter and leave anonymously or check in and out and only leave traces of dust and ashes and misunderstood lyrics and crumbs of their various sleeps - and the desk clerk stares at us in kafkaesque bewilderment while we are still pondering whether to leave and travel on or stay and share our ties and joints and awakenings with all those other voyagers that are trying to keep balance here at the surreal hostel of being and create anew the next contruct of utopia....

it seems an almost different sense of realism
and it seems to travel great distances

love the word surreal and enjoyed reading both of you, sweetwater & panta!! gracias!!!