It can not be a scratch.
Do you see it?
There, on my ankle, I can easily recognise a sole and a heel.
It seems that my skin is burned, but I didn't made anything by intention.
To me it looks clear. An elf came by.
That's probably because it's now definitely too much that I don't visit the forest.
In the early December, I made one of my spontaneous sketch on my book that I enjoy so much because I don't ask anything to me, and they come just appear, random ugly or sometimes meaningful.
After some weeks, I made another one, that fits the empty space that the other one created, waiting for an answer.
Do you feel it?
I'd pay one thousand of kites to know which is my way.
The point is not strictly about any skill of mine, the point is mostly about the sense and the power of the ways that I could adopt.
I'd pay one million of melting clocks to meet an elf able to show me my way, without letting me have any doubt about his words.
Instead, I keep thinking that one of the best virtue is always considering any possible theory, that means that any doubt can find its comfort in my psychedelic endless mind… That means that my honest interior pirate has a hard job if has also to carry on the fragility of my interior mermaid (yeah, I'm a pirate and a mermaid at the same, as some good friends told me).
So, here I am, pirate and mermaid, brave and strong and hyper-fragile, I know that my questions seem too big and I might change my mind one billion times again, but the current challenge is this one: try hard on art this 2013, seeing where I go with it and meanwhile decide if I really wanna start a new path.
*Thank you again, Scobo.* |
What's exactly such a new path supposed to be?
If the idea resists still for a long time, I will tell it here for sure.
Right now, the path is find the courage to leave my headphones with The Black Keys on, wear my loved pyjamas, don't laugh too much for how you English speakers say "pyjama", 'cause I actually feel like an imbecile putting such a weird stuff in it (you have just to be comfortable in a "pyjama", instead this word looks like a word with sunglasses!, in Italian we simply say "pigiama", fuck the hell!), and then roll on my bed watching an inspiring movie for my next videoclip.
…
Ok, stopping to laugh because of how you spell "pyjama" is still hard!
Maybe I should try to wear my pyjama even if I laugh… Probably starting to watch the movie I'll be able to be quiet. Yeah. That's brilliant. I feel so brilliant and cool that I could wear my sunglasses! Yeah, now it makes sense: pyjama and sunglasses.
B-)
4 comments:
Jajajajajajajajaajjaja!
P Y J A MA!
JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA!
Girl has gone crazy! In italian, they say "Impazzeta"
Uh, Mr. Pajamas, are you that pair of grey ones that I recently wear? I'd like to tell you that you're so comfortable, by the way! Thank you to host me in your sweet (pink and) grey land. You're kinda rarity!!!
… But I'm sorry to tell you that you're wrong.
In Italian they don't call me "Impazzeta".
Only one guy calls me that way.
You have no idea about how much HE is crazy, actually.
Poor, pooor guy!
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