Eyesore

In saying very little, I stood closer to what I had to say and encountered it before I knew what it was. Brag about eyesores if there’s almost nothing nice to say.

Eyesores are ups and downs, and in jeans, I’ll rest my tired hands in the pocket of my dreams. Conflict is about the only fundamental constant a person can count on. Find your camera and photograph how you feel.

More often than not, the most complex person to introduce us to is ourselves, and if anyone can peacefully walk away after authentically meeting oneself, that’s not half bad, perhaps.

In my dream, I went around taking pictures and telling everyone that I was an artist, and I was terrible, and people were kind.

If cash makes us wealthy, many will be poor. However, if we quantify wealth in other ways, there’ll be more paths to being rich than we can imagine: nutritious foods, laughter, songs, new shoes, a prayer, time in nature, or gratitude and grace. I see wealthy people everywhere.

Sometimes, it makes sense if it lacks significance. For example, I liked the color of a discarded sign. I liked the fact that it had a number on it. A number is data. Data without context is fun because it doesn’t explains much but still does.

If we ask what, we’ll take boring pictures, but if we ask how, we’ll make engaging work.

We still don’t know how large art is, yet it’s smaller than a rose’s fragrance.

A story is one foot in the past, and an idea is another in the future.

In my life, art education ushered its students toward design occupations, and today it’s teaching, and I enjoyed school because I wanted to become a student.

We don’t age, but our bodies do. Not living is scarier than dying, and I have things I want to do, not because anyone else wants them, but because I do, and that counts for something.