I'm not the man you think I am

@ghostemoji

Lately instead of picking up my phone for the 3-8mins I might have in between I have been reading poems and rereading poems and (re)discovering the joy of preserving a poem in your memory. It is completely different to read a poem and mull it over for a bit than to have it live in your head to mull over it at any time, to mull over any line at any time, to see what you remember and what you forget, what you remember wrong and why... it really feels like the words live and grow inside my head. Gives me so much understanding of how people "used to live" as in learning things by heart. To have a little library in your head to return to is so different than using external memory tools. One day I read a poem in which there was a horse that really settled down in my heart (its coat shining earth in the moonlight/ (half-earth itself, half-wind)) and reading my daughter a children's book there was a horse and I had a deja vu of -- oh, where did I meet this horse who really touched my heart? only to realise it was in the poem. Words, at their best, can contain physical touch...

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I’ve reprinted this drawing for the first time in years for Pride month, if you’d like one they’re here!

It is an hundred years hence now. Go open your doors.

some hyper famous artists like Van Gogh transcend overratedness and become underrated because they're so normalized. Like I'll look at a van Gogh and I'm like wait this really is amazing you guys don't get it

Shakespeare is like this