brooklyn oasis

Always contemplating my next creative move. These next two weeks will be an amazing time to reflect on what I have created and what I want to create. Being an artist is so strange — the perpetual need to express oneself. Bowie said there was something unnatural about it, something nonsensical. I still have no idea what drives me — what force moves me forward, constantly asking me to produce more and more. What I do know is that I’ve helped a few people, inspired a few hearts — and that’s all someone like me needs to keep moving forward.

"she puts you in rhythm with you destiny"

Did you fall in love with her, or the idea of her?

When she rattles in the night and howls from her mensuration,

does your dream girl shatter?

If she yells back at you, defends herself —

do you get soft?

Far too often this year I’ve fallen for weak men,

weak men who want even weaker women.

Where are those who want their woman exalted?

In her power and set on high,

show me the man who will be by my side as I take on the art, spiritual and psychological landscapes of our time.

show me the man who will be by my side as i paint masterpieces, write profound poetry and speak in front of masses.

Then and only then, will I rest my head on his chest.

"that's why you wanna come out and play with me"

dreaming of being a country music star

there is a soul in you

"each time you fall in love, it's clearly not enough"

"she believed in art with the passion of a first love"

She believed in art with the passion of a first love, a lifetime spent creating as she pleased.

As the winter weather hardened the outside streets, the lights in her east village studio burned bright.

Through the window, you could see the fever she moved with, a desire to change the way people saw the world.

A desire to create and produce in a season that reaped no harvest. To make something out of nothing, that is who she is.

"she was a romantic who believed in the noble mission of art"

she was a romantic who believed in the noble mission of art, and he was of the intellectual type that could only be satisfied in manhattan.

life goes in two polarities - who you are and who you want to be.

she had fallen asleep in her art, and he inside his wealth.

neither of them getting nearer to their soul through grasping at the other.

when one does not have self-control, they seek to control somebody else.

if you love out of fear, you cannot know love.

in the name of love, they tolerated everything - and in time, had room for nothing.

soho balcony era