|To Be Carried All Unwilling Into A Nameless Future|
Dali has always been one of my favorites, and not just for the moustache. He imported many of his paintings from the faraway land of Hypnagogia, summoning dreams into wakefulness with the chime of a falling spoon.
He was utterly and unapologetically absurd and made a living at it. Quite a talent in itself.
Those are definitely my feet, solid and earthen, though my toes are less mandragorean.
Those are my toothbrush-splatter stars, which find their way into damnear everything lately.
Those are my snapping pennants, because the future is a grand place.
"It may be that when we no longer know what to do,
we have come to our real work
and when we no longer know which way to go,
we have begun our real journey."
...which I found at another favorite blog, Donna Watson's Layers