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Last Updated: 11/24/2009

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Gender: Male
Status: In a Relationship
Age: 26
Sign: Pisces

State: Isle Of Man
Country: UK
Signup Date: 3/17/2006

Who Gives Kudos:


Monday, February 02, 2009 

Current mood:it's snowing!
drawings all tell a story. so do photos and tapes and words and
i don't think theres such a thing as a recording really.. nothing can be replayed, just retold
a tape playing the sound of a falling tree isnt the same sound.. its just the tapeplayer telling
the story of that sound.
i think what we see.. are stories our eyes tell our brain. after that.. the original story completely disappears..
and all that is left is remnants of that story retold as memories in our head..which are new stories.. bright and slightly different.
so yeah.. i believe the characters i draw are alive. in my world theyre alive and i dont mean that in any
subjective or metaphorical way. theyre as alive as i am. they are part of me just like you are.
and yetis exist.
i think we should be able to have the courage to draw outside the lines of our own stories and not have to be scared into telling them straight.
and drawing outside the lines means romanticising..
when we retell the stories that our eyes and ears once told us.. we are free to embellish all the details!
the 'truth' isn't what our eyes first told us..
it's in all the changing details..
in the stories that our memories re-imagine.. over and over again until something touches our heart.
cause noone sees what's inside 'you' really.. only you know that stuff.
they just see all the stories that bounce around you like static on a balloon.
just like there's no truth in an artist analysing a painting to me.
by the time the painting tells me its story..the artist has already disappeared forever.
but the stories.. they leap off the canvas like gleaming sparks,
like tiny lit up dragonflies that flutter in the dark.
that senselessly recreate, and randomly regenerate
that transfigure in my memories
and mutate in my dreams.
and i find myself immersed, not in the painting i once saw../leaf that i once smelt/song that i once heard/cheek that i once kissed,
but in all its flickering sparks
that jump and turn
and swarm me,
warmly.

'the universe is made up of stories, not atoms' - muriel rukeyser
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TamaraObscura ( Cha-Cha De' GORE-O )
Tamara Whitworth-Gilley

 
Here is a piece of my story Almost five years ago i fell in love in the bookstore i worked at. It wasn't love at first sight it was a slow simmering romance. He was tall, awkward and most of all mysterious. He barely spoke and when he did it was always in riddles or versus, poems or just sweeping hand gestures. I was told he wrote well and one day i asked him if i could read one of his stories he said yes and immediately wrote me a beautiful story of a little eskimo girl which moved me to tears. After that i was hooked i needed to hear his words they were so powerful, so i started writing to him and so our affair began. He would hide letters and stories for me in the books and the cafe and i would rip pages out of magazines to make envelopes for him. There were so many letters and stories we would read the books and impose each other into the stories, he became my Lancelot, my Little prince, my Holden Caulfield. And i was his Guenevere, his rose, his Yoko. That is all i have time for today, let me know if you want to hear more Tamara.

 
Posted by TamaraObscura ( Cha-Cha De' GORE-O ) on Monday, February 02, 2009 - 2:08 PM
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brainwash79
makis p

 
interesting.. below and above
 
Posted by brainwash79 on Friday, March 27, 2009 - 11:55 AM
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Previous Post: [ no poetry ] | Back to Blog List | Next Post: distoriangloria