#ishallendure

Good Goddess,

This process is grueling, slow and terrible, but I am beginning to see a light on the horizon.

Whilst I was transmogrifying the Horror of the footage captured by UNNAMED BRANDING AGENCY  in my favorite stimulant dispensary in Bushwick, I began a spontaneous conversation about common Astrology with a light-filled stranger. 

Imagine my surprise, when, after I had shewed this Glowing Individual my editing/salvage/transformation process with the footage shot for UNNAMED BRAND, this person turned out to be an employee of Kickstarter!!!

So, in an odd twist of Fate, the Universe offers another opportunity for sharing my work with Friends, not to spread my joyful and important message of the combining of Nature and Industry, but to revisit my desperate failure, my supreme unfittingness as a conduit to Normal Society. 

While my hopes for an un-colonated Magnum Opus have been dashed, they have agreed to screen my bitter harvest.

And so friends, for those who listen, I present to you:

O Friends, Join me:

Dear friends,

Ahh me.

It is a loathsome grind froward, is it not?? I continue to struggle to stave off total privation and to hear clearly the whispers of the divine moving within me. Sometimes they are so close, and I am moved to practice in my studio (the corner of my small bed-chamber) but sometimes they echo, as if from a total and intense distance and I know not where they come from. I am comforted when I can catch their creative meaning, I am tossed with despair entirely when subsumed by images too sad and beautiful to live fully in this world. Whoever then do I bother to call them forth among us?

Oh void, how can I possibly bring for the masses the balm that will heal this world? As I reread my earlier posts it is clear to me that my thoughts and dreams hold particular meaning, I know that I am the new order of artist-missionary.

I spend my days applying to lackey positions, positions designed to support and to attend. Is it so implausible that I have a marked record as an excellent support and attender, a marked purpose towards supporting and attending, and yet I am unable to attend to a client long enough to serve an asparagus spear? Truly, I am unable to bring myself to support the rampant spending and waste, the pure self-congratulation of the O-so-noble Charity Ball. My hands shake on the tray, and I am filled with disgust. I cannot continue. It continues. I control myself and then am spoken to with such condescension, such blatant disrespect that I cannot hold back my fury. And then it begins anew. The creative rush, that scramble for support, the periods of wasting away, unable to remove myself from bed, all with the rush and tumble of waves, satisfying and slowing eroding the shores.

I desire….

I aspire…..

I crave.

I do, I crave.

I crave Greatness through Connection. I desire to support and attend the birthing of a new human race. I aspire to midwife our transformation. I crave the impact of my magnum opus to spread throughout the metropolis.

I desperately need a bridge, a cohort of supporters who can provide me with the correct pathways to reach the masses. I will feel them coming to me, I will manifest them from the ether. If my cause is noble and my intention true, then surely they must appear!

I hold this thought as I ride into the blackness/craigslist again.

With all my strength I will write again tomorrow,