Saigon rain. The very rain I had romanticized about in my writings 3 years ago seemed to sink my soul as I roamed the street, feeling incredibly lost between the lines and lines of motorbikes in this city. Everything seems to be happening behind a glass screen and I exist in a different sphere. Everything seems to be floating and perhaps when I have space I will hang my canvases up and draw floating circles because that is how I feel. Because all the lines that I tried to draw yesterday kept tangling up into a mess. And I find myself climbing back into bed, a heap of flesh and bones twisted out of shape and spirit. I act like a rejected lover, though without the comfort of romance.
When people tell me to go paint walls and portraits, the image of Aki smashing plates and walking on the shatters loop at the back of my head. I'd like to smash a few prejudices and preconceptions.
Ahh...there is no use complaining. I need to gather myself up and start rolling. There are still so many books to read, movies to see, people to find... I need to find people like Laura, whose excitement turns into rapid whispers, whose eyes gleam with fire when we talk life. and beauty. and art. and i mean art - a serious attempt at love and life, thoughts and feelings. not wall decorations.
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