More. More. More.
Beneath the sun, He tried at least - but lost his head. While golden stars and pink black and yellow bouquets tumbled all about with flashing egos and teeth. Blind as to their place disobedient to their master surly like children made to eat. Jealous of the love of passing eyes for the light in the dark they came to drink. Stop trying! You'll only make it worse, they say, its dead and gone to seed. It's old and twisted like a rope, but still we work away. There's still a thread of life within, a grain of truth may sprout, there's always hope where seed's concerned as long as it's warm without. I'll drop my bloom, and leave my rays, I'll water the old dry roots. and there with all the weather you'll see a tiny sapling shoot. You know, when you're hungry enough you'll eat the stalks too.
But we got air lifted again so things are better now. She's put some weird new leaves in with the ever delicious ivy (which is at the moment the nicest variety with flowers) we aren't completely sure what they are, - the new ones. She, the super ape, is hoping they are 'pri-vet'. Her Tortoise parents said they always feed their sticks privet, but they did keep theirs in a jam jar which would be like hell in a cell. No wonder they never lived very long. :sadstickface: they meant well, just weren't into looking things up very much. ANYWAY as loud and hot handed as our super ape is, at least we have a bigger house than that, and well, we quite like it. No one has lost any limbs, well no one except Frank, he had a stump for a while until he shed that skin, and then he was fine. There's that one that still hangs like a V sometimes, but she's in a different tank now so I don't get to chat much. She cleans us out very often now, but we poo A LOT so its a good job. What can I say?! We aren't made of PLASTIC!! I tell you what though, you never smelled such sweet smelling poo anywhere in the universe. OUR TANK smells like very expensive perfume. How much do super apes in Tokyo Paris or Milan pay for their bottled version of what we produce out of pure love on a daily basis. Our super ape is very lucky and knows it too. Our communication lines are very good these days, so much so that she even helped me bring this message to you, all about the delicious scent of our many many bottoms. PS I've taken up ballet. This is just a little something I'm working on at the moment, you can see it progress over HERE.
UPDATE: part three is taking quite some time to pass through 'approval' so the department tells me though I am not altogether sure they have been focused sufficiently on the task to land it on my desk as promised last month, in truth it languishes beneath the weight of several b grade movies shown in rotation on movies for men (channel 43 - free therapy - for men of all genders on freeview including death by aeroplane, death by tank, death by indian, death by cowboy, death by nazis, death by allies, death by women and death by surprising aliens) meanwhile I am awaiting mere seconds of progress that take simply an age. There will be pictures with words. OH YES. The next chapter will be forthcoming and notices will be posted. Study for a painting. Not the man but - the indescribable force, Wakan Tanka, the God of Gods, I Am , Jah, Yahweh and a thousand other names. (This is trying to draw the undraw-able but that never stopped me before. It is actually more like some of my older paintings than I would have expected - before I drew it. Like the hole in the head (but healthier, or like the death one, but not dark, though it is quite sad, but then I imagine God may be quite sad, just with all the beauty of it all and the sadness of watching the world struggle with its freedom - our free will, and the consequences of our choices - I am sure he'd like to intervene more, but then we wouldn't be free we'd just be a mechanical toy, and we are not we are alive. We choose. And we can choose to ask him for help. It's a wonder more of us don't. But anyway.) In the end, what got me moving (as I had seized up like my jaw after the dentist) was my thinking about mitochondria - the energy generating, converting, life giving cells in all living organisms… and I was also looking at a picture of the sacrum bone, because one way or another the truth is right here/here, it just might not mean what you think it does. Maybe God is in our very living cells, is what animates us? Or maybe we are the 'cells' that make up what God is; We are the vibrating mass of energy that comes from him. So I tried drawing that.
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The ARTIST
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