Trying to remember who told me about that movie. A woman, that much I am sure, either here on studio eight or litkicksdotcom.
Claudel was fortunate to have a loving brother. That much I remember, but did he turn on her in the end? I forgot the ending. That would be sad, maybe that is why I can't remember the end. Repression is so slick. I hardly notice it. Which is an improvement I think. At least I am aware of what I am not aware of.
I been reading along on your artlog, mingo makes a point about his dreams. Noting them in passing. But it is more than that for you, you seek inspiration in them. Meanings even. I am sure there are meanings, but I think moo moo camus would say we have to make them up as we go, because dreams are absurd. Much like reality.
Well don't me dame, I am into the bitter herbs
I feel as if you are a friend of mine
I aim to please
double minded man
that I am
unstable in all my ways the Bible say
Who was that
James?
I miss the old days when I was still a Jesus freak, walking the streets of Nashville and Berryhill. My beard down to my knees and hair to my ass.
Never met so many strange people in my life. Finally settled down and joined a Quacker meeting there. "Quackers, aka the religious society of ducks"
still a duck after all these years
quack at you later
got to go to work
I work at home for the Rosewater Foundation, the Kurt Vonnegut memorial fund for people suffering from "Samaritrophia" ( hysterical indifference to the troubles of those less fortunate than oneself. )
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