Dear Me,
What have I done to you?
Why do we insist on doing this to ourselves?
Let's fix "us".
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About Me
- C. Marie
- "Part of Art's life (beyond its creation) is to be consumed, interpreted, digested, misinterpreted, vomited up, perceived, then reinterpreted... And even then it's difficult to know for sure." - Brandon Boyd. I believe this wholeheartedly & without a second thought. I've never been the most comprehensive person in verbal conversation; the medium of communication I was always most fluent in required paper, ink, paint, & charcoal smudging. That's not to say I'm any more articulate through my creations, just that it's always been the means by which I'm able to convey my thoughts or feelings without stuttering... but even then, each smudge on my paper is where my hand stuttered in transcendence. I welcome translation or interpretations from any of whom care to look closer &/or question. Live passionately, love honestly, & appreciate everything; for we can learn from anything.
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