Odilon Redon

“The sense of mystery is a matter of being all the time amid the equivocal, in double and triple aspects, and hints of aspects (images within images), forms which are coming to birth, or which will come to birth according to the state of mind of the observer.”

-Odilon Redon, Notes to Himself

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Odilon Redon The Grinning Spider 1881 via Galleryintell.com 

The place we go to find ourselves is often the place we fear the most. We procrastinate and put that place where we dwell on hold for when life gets easier and when things feel more comfortable. The only thing is we as humans hide pieces ourselves in the most uncomfortable places.

 

 

 

 

the drain sings lovely -Morality Collection

 

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some of us lose all the time
time after time
until our true colours have bled out
and we start to see things in black and white
question on which side our shadows cuddle light
which sun offers up a tanned braising against a weak pale puffed burning
eagerly the skin turns to paper
and we’re unsure if we can capture enough words
before we become curling ashes in our pyres
for some of us, art is the air we breathe daily, until we drown ourselves in the bathtubs of our failed accomplishments
the drain sings lovely songs
bubble babble trickle symphony sung in the voices of those held dearest
in places where physically none are held anymore
these empty arms and trembling hands remember the way we painted each other
stroke by stroke, our brushes one anothers blushes
crimson your cheeks
raw-red from the joy-cry of understood and accepted
and named true
with words lovingly whispered through actions unspoken.

Written by: Michael Morlock, a father, artist, and time traveler from New England. You can find him @themancalledmorlock on Instagram

 

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Wanna read more? Here’s another great piece in our Morality Collection Frayed Ends by Geoff Blanchette

This is bad

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These critics tell me how this is bad

so bad

They cringe and shrivel and their fingers twitch horizontal

And I say, with the most innocent eyes I can conjure,

I like it this way I like it a mess

And rugged and the honesty that’s so pure it makes you cry

dirty sheets and pants damp with sweat

Don’t tell me my way is bad just because

You live by the way someone else wipes your ass.

 

-Saschia Johnson