Male

I am an artist from pigment to pixel and intend to make a modular multimedia installation random montage road movie that traces a path through the labyrinths of hell and explains the meaning of life and the holy grail but for now I am terminally imprisoned by an unjust and moronic world and rotting amidst the undead in the french countryside etc...

First (I have sung) the vast necessity of ancient Chaos...

The Way of Orpheus,
Leads to the mystery
through the darkness
to Consciousness Itself
Crowned with Immortal Joy...

The Sonnets to Orpheus: XIV

Look at the flowers, so faithful to what is earthly,
to whom we lend fate from the very border of fate.
And if they are sad about how they must wither and die,
perhaps it is our vocation to be their regret.

All Things want to fly. Only we are weighed down by desire
caught in ourselves and enthralled with our heaviness.
Oh what consuming, negative teachers we are
for them, while eternal childhood fills them with grace.

If someone were to fall into intimate slumber, and slept
deeply with Things-:how easily he would come
to a different day, out of the mutual depth.

Or perhaps he would stay there; and they would blossom and praise
their newest convert, who now is like one of them,
all those silent companions in the wind of the meadows.