Being what and where you go—if you are you, after all
When there is a moving moment. Made into a monument. Who is looking at it?
When there’s two and it’s not divided but living parallel. Dynamic.
Asking questions only to expect an absurd reply.
Distant low res sounds inside outside are a feeling you’re receiving like music from afar, resonating, permeating sinew, tendons, bones. Awakening vitality. Like as if it opens doors.
There are many things. Going. Through. Still. Spreading out and continue. Just like new. Again.
Space accommodates it them and all like the universe expanding does accommodate itself. Yes you are that then. Heading out in it.
When you see yourself moving. In colour. Color. See you go from here to there. Go be this way, be that way. Going being looking. Are you who you are you then being?
Smoke and mirrors.
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