weird cracks in the pottery


this picture is called city re sur rection

i can feel the urge to destroy as it runs through the opinion to create life. that's really all that's going on all day, the continuous decisions of whether to go towards life or bathe in the strong stream of death that runs, seemingly so free, seeming so free, so free, free. and the opinion to create life structural engineering human reconfiguring guilt shame joy and pathos, dance, effigies and the like, are a LOT of work and so there's this stream and it is calling me to death, come to me, come to me, bathe in me, it's what you really want isn't it? bliss? the end of suffering?

i heard that weird meant cracks in the pottery to greeks and of course, to a greek, pottery was like the computer or cell phone to us today. you never ever were anywhere without a pot in those days, pots did just about everything, there were every possible size of pot too, big small and in between and if a crack was in a pot, if the pot was cracked it couldn't do it's job correctly, it could not serve as a container, it's role vis a vis man and womankind and so the pot was cracked and weird. so, if you eschew being useful, you become weird and a crackpot, an inventor, someone who lives to create and not to exist as a vessel, filled with something other for the use of someone other.


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