Thursday, June 29, 2006


If you become the brushstroke instead of looking at the brushstroke, the photographer thinks as he edges over to the other panel, what would vision reveal? I know the virgin who photographed this painting is in the audience today. So I want to tell you, the circle is the edge of my skirt flaring as I twirl. I sculpted my skirt from velvet stained the color of fertile moonstones. If I ever give birth to a girl, I shall name her Jade. Second name: Angelika, the angel who plummeted towards wet jagged boulders in order to own her vision. In the beginning was the Word, Angelika whispered. She taught me with the sweetest of smiles, Sometimes, Compromise unfolds the enlightened path towards a particular fragrance we can recover from memory.