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A Waking Vision

December 22nd, 2012

A lone figure floating in space sitting in meditation upon an asteroid.
Deep in contemplation and peace when from the darkness of space a sun bursts before him showering him in light.
He does not feign nor fret but slowly opens his eyes to see before him the sun like burst of light assume the shape of a man.
The figure then transforms into an oceanic wave of water which encompasses the unwavering man on the rock in space.
He hears in his mind, “Though I assume the form of fire, I am also that of water…” the voice trails as the figure assumes the form of earth and mountain,”…I am also that of earth…” and it continues as it transforms into the deepest of blue skies and clouds,”…I am also all that you breathe in every breath…” and the transformation continues as the figure transforms into the darkness of space filled with the density of infinite stars and a final transmission is uttered,”…and though I am all of these things and more I am also within you,” and the figure transforms into a single dot of light which enters the meditating mans mind between his eyes.

The man on the rock floating in space smiles and slowly opens his eyes. He lets out a deep exhale and bursts into a cloud of particles which spread out at light speed in every direction throughout the universe. As the cloud dissipates and the blackness of space returns a small dot of light can be seen. As if by magic, the dot of light instantly transforms into a planet of water, earth and air teeming with life.

I open my eyes. Awake.

-policarpo 12.22.12

concepts, short story

In the spirit of Duchamp

November 23rd, 2012

Meaningless verse vaporized within hypocratic oaths taken in secret and without valor. The world wishes and pushes in instances of certainty as if heard from within whispers of hysteria.

Her eyes became the shadows of the sun, her arms outstretched to become the horizon of the infinite. Behold on this night of splendor the wonder and joy manifesting within.

Do not fear the beast
Do not the angels
Do not fear the doubt
Do not fear the certainty
For they all manifest
Manifest from the same source
Identical and fluid only requiring focus to transform into the illuminable manifestation of being.

Still her heart
Still his mind
Become
within the silence of the whisper.

flow, short story

Inspired by the track Chimaerica by Johann Johannsson on the album Fordlandia

July 16th, 2012

A Taste For The Moment

She sat for a moment and tried to capture the sense of stillness around her. The timid nature of the moment was hard to grasp, it flowed past her senses like a quickening of ether lighting the mind. There was the passage of time like a breath being taken in for the first time, there was emotion ebbing and flowing like swelling shadows in the night, there was light filling the void with all it’s brilliance. And there. In between it all was her. The body. The mind. The single thought chasing it all. A momentary glimpse into her own infinite nature. Then it was gone.
“Miss. Would you like some more coffee?” the waiter asked
“…No I’m fine. Thank you. I’ll take the check please,” she replied, struggling to bridge the gap between the here and the now.

concepts, short story

A Tail of the Unexpected

February 22nd, 2011

I had seen this coming almost three months ago…the undying passion, the eternal joy, the blind faith to the dream that would be. It was one of the first times in my life where I felt like I actually got it right.

She moved her arm slightly, making more room for the newborn kitten between us.

“So, you really don’t mind this little bundle of claws and sharp little kitten teeth?” she asked.

“Not in the least. In fact, I think we should start leash training him so we can take him out for daily walks just to confuse the hell out of dogs and their owners.”

She let out a little laugh and picked the kitten up and held him above us. He opened his eyes slowly and let out a little meow.

“You see. I think he agrees with me,” I said, rubbing his little chin.

“We’ll see about the leash thing…but I am happy you like him.”

“Have you decided on a name yet?”

She brought the kitten back down and placed him on my chest. His purr box went into overdrive.

“I was thinking of the name Felineous,” she said with a huge smile.

“That’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“Ha! Well let’s just say it’s a good candidate for a name.”

I rubbed the top of Felineous’ head with my index finger. He squinted at me and let out a little meow-purr.

“Hello Felineous…how is the fierce kitty?” I asked.

“Meow purr urr urr mee-up rrr,” he announced with much pleasure.

“You see. I think he likes his name,” she said.

“I think you’re right…but I think we should still discuss his leash training. It would be awesome.”

She gave me a light kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll have to see what he thinks about that,” she said, getting up from the bed.

I took Felineous in my hands. He was so small that he fit in both of my hands. I stood up and walked to the window overlooking the park.

“You see that down there Felineous? That is your world. And one day, you’ll show the world that not everything is as it should be. We’ll have you on that leash…just to mess with all their heads.”

short story

The Feeling

August 31st, 2009

15 Steps, by Radiohead was blaring from the speakers when he quickly turned it down.

“It’s happening again…”

“What is?”

“The feeling…”

“The feeling.  What do you mean, the ‘feeling’.”

“That feeling I get when we’re here.  Remember, I told you about it…”

“Oh, the ‘feeling’.  Can you tell me more about it?”

“I don’t know.  It’s a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling.  Big, small, confining, loud, quiet, silly.”

“Well, some of those things.  It’s hard to explain.”

“Give it a try.  I’d like to know more about it.”

“I don’t know.  I just feel strange.”

“Strange is good.  Try and expand on the feeling.”

“I feel all confined…boxed in.  My hands are clammy…”

“Hrmmm…sounds like your standard anxiety attack.  What do you think triggered it?”

“The hell if I know.  I always get it when we’re here.”

“Interesting.  What do you think it is about here that triggers it?”

“I wish I knew.  I just want to be rid of this damn thing.”

“So why not stop it.  Stop the damn feeling and just be rid of it.”

“I don’t know how.  I wish I knew how to.”

“Are you sure about that.  You gave yourself the feeling.”

“No I didn’t.  It’s this place…it gives me the feeling.”

“How can a place give you a feeling.  Aren’t you the one looking at things, deciding what does not and does matter?”

“I…I guess.  But it’s complicated.  I just, I just want to be rid of it.”

“Complicated?  What’s complicated?  Holding on to an irrational thought that consumes you?  That doesn’t seem complicated to me…it seems a little koo-koo if you ask me.”

“I know, I know…I get all of that.  Fuck.  It’s getting worse.”

“Do we need to stop?  I can take over.  Let me know if we need to stop.”

“I’m not sure…what should we do?”

“Hell if I know.  You’re the one with the crazy feeling.  What do you think we should do?”

“I think I should stop.”

“Ok…let’s stop.”

He pulls the car over and leans his head on the steering wheel.

“What the fuck…I am so sick of this…why the hell is this happening?”

“Does that really matter?”

“What?”

“Why it’s happening?  Do you have to have a reason for everything?”

“I don’t understand…shouldn’t I want to know what’s causing it so I can face it and be rid of it?”

“Hrmmm…how often does that work?  Knowing the why?  Why don’t you just change what you’re doing.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Really?  So let me ask you this.  What makes more sense, trying to understand the why of why this thing has a hold on you, or allowing it to just take over your senses whenever it wants to?  It seems like you didn’t need to satisfy the ‘why’ by allowing it to become a debilitating behavior of yours.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Exactly.  There you sit wanting to know why, why, why…when you never asked why you shouldn’t have this feeling.  So I say just let it go…forget about it.  Stop feeling this way.”

“But how?”

“How what?”

“How do I stop feeling this way?”

“I don’t know…how did you start feeling this way?”

“What way?”

“The way you are feeling.”

“I don’t know…I don’t know how I started feeling this way…”

“Good, now we’re getting some where.  So how about we feel some way we want to feel.”

He turned off the car and sat back in his seat.

“Go on…”

“Let’s just start feeling another way.  This is an amazing car, so let’s think about that feeling when you first drove it.  How did that feel?”

“It was amazing.  I fell in love with how it handled and how it gripped the road.”

“Great…great…there’s a reason it’s one of the top 5 cars 3 years running.  So tell me more about that feeling you had.”

“I felt so connected to the car…I felt like we were one…I imagined that I was like a malleable fluid racing down the road, zipping in and out of traffic…I wasn’t excited or anything, everything just seemed to flow.”

“That’s wonderful.  Close your eyes for a bit and really visualize that feeling.  Imagine that you’re back there and that it’s here and now.”

He closed his eyes and imagined the scene and a wave of euphoria came over him.  He smiled slightly and laughed.

“Wow…I love this feeling.”

“As you should.  It’s your feeling.  A feeling you own. So you should just decide which feeling you prefer.  The one you want to know why you have or the one you know everything about.  In my professional opinion…I’d go with the one I know.”

He laughed aloud and started the car.

“Thanks for waking me up…I really needed…”

“Shut the hell up and drive,” he said with a wink and turned the volume back up on the iPod.

art, concepts, short story , , ,

All The Time In The World

August 16th, 2009

- I think I understand.
- Oh yeah? But that’s what you said last time.
- I know I know. But this time it’s different. I can see it in my mind.
He handed her a slip of paper and a red pen.
- Okay. Go ahead. Give it a try.
- Don’t rush me.
- I’m not rushing you. I am trying to help. Take your time.
- Okay okay. Just don’t pressure me.
- No pressure. We’ve got all the time in the world.
She slowly began to write on the paper. He watched her for a moment and then turned to look out the window.
- It really is a beautiful day, he said.
- What? Oh yes, a beautiful day. Could you keep it down. I need to focus.
- Sure thing. Sorry.
He walked toward the open window and stuck his head out. The masses of people below on the street resembled ants scurrying about their business.
- I’m really surprised they let you open the windows fully all the way up here.
- What? Oh…they don’t. I paid a man.
- You what?
- I paid a man to fix it so they would open all the way.
- Why?
- Just in case.
- In case what?
- You know. In case. Now please, keep it down. The image is hard to hold.
- Sorry.
He stood with his head out the window wondering what the ‘in case’ situation might be, wondering if it meant what in his gut he imagined it to be. He thought she was over all of that. He shook his head and smiled slightly. When he turned to look at her he saw that the pen she was writing with had burst and there was now red ink all over hands, face and bed sheets.
- Again?
- I…I don’t know what it is. Honestly.
- Don’t worry. We have all the time in the world. Don’t worry…

art, concepts, short story , , , , ,

Awaken

July 29th, 2009

I sense this moment as eternal bliss
As if a dancer perched upon a precipice of rapture,
A single step toward purpose of will,
A glance toward beauty arising, unfolding within the blessed garden.
Oh how the wings of all these creatures flutter to ignite the flame within
With me holding the fire to share with the world.

short story ,

A Simple Question

July 29th, 2009

She rested her head on my chest, looking off toward the vastness of the sea, “Do you think the angels swim in the sea?” she asked, moving ever so slightly in my arms.

I squinted, looking far off into the distance. “I would imagine so, but I don’t think they swim as much as soar with glee through the water like Rays and other flying creatures in the sea.”

She smiled and looked at me. “Yes, maybe you’re right. Angels always fly no matter where they visit.”

short story

More Than A Kitten

July 29th, 2009

I had seen this coming almost three months ago…the undying passion, the eternal joy, the blind faith to the dream that would be. It was one of the first times in my life where I felt like I actually got it right.

She moved her arm slightly, making more room for the newborn kitten between us.

“So, you really don’t mind this little bundle of claws and sharp little kitten teeth?” she asked.

“Not in the least. In fact, I think we should start leash training him so we can take him out for daily walks just to confuse the hell out of dogs and their owners.”

She let out a little laugh and picked the kitten up and held him above us. He opened his eyes slowly and let out a little meow.

“You see. I think he agrees with me,” I said, rubbing his little chin.

“We’ll see about the leash thing…but I am happy you like him.”

“Have you decided on a name yet?”

She brought the kitten back down and placed him on my chest. His purr box went into overdrive.

“I was thinking of the name Felineous,” she said with a huge smile.

“That’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“Ha! Well let’s just say it’s a good candidate for a name.”

I rubbed the top of Felineous’ head with my index finger. He squinted at me and let out a little meow-purr.

“Hello Felineous…how is the fierce kitty?” I asked.

“Meow purr urr urr mee-up rrr,” he announced with much pleasure.

“You see. I think he likes his name,” she said.

“I think you’re right…but I think we should still discuss his leash training thing. It would be a interesting to see how he takes to it.”

She gave me a light kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll have to see what he thinks about that,” she said, getting up from the bed.

I took Felineous in my hands. He was so small that he fit perfectly in my left hand. I stood up and walked to the window overlooking the park.

“You see that down there Felineous? That is your world. And one day, you’ll show the world that not everything is as it should be. We’ll have you on that leash…just to mess with all their heads.”

short story

a meditation and realization

April 16th, 2009

3358367969_a52f217b35

In the shadows we see our reflections of our truest selves staring at us…it takes nothing more than inner strength to bring that being in the shadows into the light…yet, this inner strength is something we must earn within ourselves…within our psychic make up.  When we earn it, the world is ours.

short story