I think it is important for the city itself to invest in projects and organizations that provide artists with opportunities to learn and grow. Culture is one of the most important aspects of a community’s balance, and ART is very important for our world. I believe it is important for cities to support their local art communities. There are many ways that a city can help its local art community, but I also believe that artists should not depend on anyone or anything to give them hand outs. In order to be successful, you must be independent and have ingenuity.
What do you think about Gainesville?
Gainesville is a great town. Everything is so close and it is easy to get around. There are a lot of great restaurants and cool spots. It’s also really special that there is so much amazing art around town. Having international artists come and paint really changes a city. I believe it raises the level of consciousness. I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to come and spend time here.
I was told once that all we need is truth to make us whole again, like poisoning our reservoirs with Veritaserum will magically fix our broken race. But, I don’t think we need more truth. What we need is an overdose of empathy, we need heart walls to tear open and bleed until scientists are forced to find a way to make us clot. We need to invent a formula to repair this apathetic world view because it has become an epidemic. And this is a disease that targets what makes humanity human. And It continues to infect us with the silent insanity moonlight offers nightly. We lay in bed and feel our skin crawling as loneliness carves crevices into our hearts so we take it out on others in the morning. We refuse to care about the third world because in the first and second we aren’t happy. Because our first world problem is that no one can see our soul is dying inside, no matter how loud we are screaming. Because crying on the streets is crazy. And begging for help is desperate. And we’re all too blind and proud to see each others pain. To scared to see our own pain reflecting back at us.
Love is enough. Let the battle begin, with a flick of the wrist and the feelings of sin.
Some say that it’s not, that you still need a job, or be taught, how you ought not to have been.
Some say that love is no different from lust, as you gather your feelings and thrust and you thrust, but I must take a step back from the compact walls of shimmering slacks. Which white is right and which black is more black than the attack of the click clack bloom in a springtime filled room with colors and colors and colors of you who I do love? Maybe still with a taste of the lust, but why can’t we set our differences inside of the us, and forget all the who’s, he’s, she’s, she’s enough? Why can’t we say that love is the only thing that matters? While soldiers’ blood splatters the media’s fingertips chatter like raindrops falling on the lap of the mad hatter who’s laughter and singing’s too soft for the actors, love is enough to make it all stop.
But, Love is never enough for those who fall short, for those who decided that money is more, than a heart can provide as the Mercedes-Benz mini van door slides to the right, and their love starved children continue to fight for a packed lunch that you might pack or just give them cash and tell them that soon you’ll buy them an ass, and some tits, and some dresses, and boom they say that they love you. When we know it’s not love it pretentious feelings of hatred they clutch.
But to me, and my love, love is enough. Although she moved, and I felt feels and and and and I still feel. I have no money, and three jobs between lonely cat naps and creative writing attacks and and and I gotta stop in the middle of ranting, to tell you I’m painting, my face is uncanny, or if not, it can be. Damn B! How you think we can stand in the streets and take turns blowing fire every time the other side speaks. We cannot just do what we’re told. Let the buyers buy up all the other mans’ souls. Let the liars lie down to die in the cold. But us lovers, us lovers, we know. That love is enough deep down where love grows.
I’ll always be a pioneer woman of ever-changing emotions. I’ll always dig deeper to summon the fundamentals of me. Through the ban of my dirt filled hands, I’ve washed them along with the burden that hate had carried.
Never think you know everything.
We can’t think we know everything.
An open heart to an open wound of a man who caught a glimpse too soon of his fate and what was at stake.
I made it a point to never slight hate cause sometimes I’d hear things the wrong way. When you think you knew everything but weren’t listening.
Love terrifies hate.
I remind myself that I’m human every day.
Love terrifies hate.