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2012-05-06 23:31 2012-01-22 12:04 I stand here before you with a clarity of purpose so transparent, that it falls just short of lead. Of purpose, I find that I am rarely certain, still I am driven, knowing only that these things must be done. It is as innate, and yet unknown to my conscious being, as the red and white cells that populate my blood. "Why art?" they ask, concerned, fearful, dubious. Is it mental illness? Obsession? Is he a pervert? Was he not loved enough by his mother? The answer is as incomprehensible to them, as their question is to me. "Why art?" "Why breathe?" I respond. an answer that is both wholly inadequate and unerringly exact. Art is my breath. Sometimes calm and restorative. More often ragged and and frothed with rage... Or urgent, and hot, and full of lust. But also, sometimes, shallow and forgotten. And if it is withheld, or by some force, taken from me, I fear... No, I know for certain, I will perish. 2012-01-09 12:48 Weird night. Generally, as a side-effect of my ongoing battle with insomnia, I don't dream. Either I'm not asleep long enough to enter a REM state, or the various chemical sleep-solutions put me too deep for dreaming. Last night was a rare exception. As some point, soon after going to bed, I found myself standing by our washer/dryer, looking into the living room. Not a dream-version, but our actual living room. There was a large, man-shaped void, standing in front of the table where Angie likes to make her jewelry. It seemed to be drawing into it what little light there was in the room. I was terrified, and knew immediately that it was a threat. I gathered my nerves and attempted to throw myself at it, with the most aggressive and fierce yell I could muster... only I couldn't move, and just a squeak came out. I woke up holding Angie, still trying to scream. Later, just before my morning alarm went off, I dreamt that I was on a cruise ship in rough, hurricane-like seas, but with bright-blue, cloudless skies. Miles in the distance, I could see an impossibly large, rogue wave bearing down on us. I stood at the railing and watched in horror as the ship's captain made a vain attempt to steer away from the horizon-filling wave. My alarm went off, just as our ship started to roll against the wave's base. Anxiety much? 2012-01-09 11:12 2012-01-05 14:37 Well, my plan to gradually migrate my old site/blog bluestarfolly.com over to larryholdaway.com was unexpectedly accelerated when servertag.net suddenly canceled my old account without notice or explanation. How's that for customer service, eh? My apologies if you've come looking for something specific and are not redirected to the correct resource. I wasn't planning on completing the migration for at least a few months. 2012-01-05 10:24 I've come to the conclusion that the insane things I do in life, are the only things keeping me sane. 2011-12-22 14:56 2011-12-12 13:01 Calling my artwork 'porn' will not dissuade me, nor will telling me that I'm going to Hell. One argument is irrelevant, the other imaginary. 2011-12-08 12:33 2011-11-30 17:37 Think about where you were 5 years ago... December 2006. Imagine that someone told you back then, that in a mere half-decade, police will be fighting running battles with thousands of disaffected, largely un(der)employed, mostly educated protesters in New York, Los Angeles, Oakland, Seattle, Boston and Philly, and actively suppressing any media that attempts to observer their actions. That there will be a bipartisan effort in Congress to pass one bill that censors the internet and another that allows for the domestic, military detention of U.S. citizens. Now, think about how paranoid that person would have sounded. |
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Larry P. Holdaway
Larry P. Holdaway