What if I say I shall not wait? What if I say I shall not wait? What if I burst the fleshly gate And pass, escaped, to thee? Emily Dickinson, The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson waitingdeath
The Waiting Place A Poem by Dr. Seuss silverbirchpress.wordpress.com Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting. waitinganxietytimemelancholy
Some Remains of My Heroes Found Scattered Across a Vacant Lot An Essay from Every So Often a Talking Dog Appears by Smiljan Radić To prove it in purityRaindrops leaving an erratic trail euphony
To prove it in purity The series of photos of the 1959 model ends or stops with the photograph in which Kiesler triumphantly shows us the shell of his house like the remains of a creature taken from the seabed, a kind of Moby Dick harpooned and finally captured after the obsessive pursuit of a project that has taken up ten years of the life of the architect. "I think that everybody has only one basic creative idea and no matter how he is driven off, you will find that he always comes back to it until he has a chance to prove it in purity, or die with the idea unrealized." — Frederick Kiesler creativitylifeobsessionpassion
Raindrops leaving an erratic trail They do not walk, they drip down the surface of the pictures, they are raindrops leaving an erratic trail, drifting down the paper, as described by Asger Jorn and Guy Debord in their psychogeographies. The driftPsychogeography