⨀ut to Where ᶖ Am
All I want is to do is paint wild abstract brush gliding in myriad colors write simple direct eloquent always from my intellect’s heart or heart’s intellect photograph fog looming in mystic trees holy mountains sundry bodies of water splashed wonderful touch touch touch of the earth that I love.


→ Feb 2012 petitmal: ”- Do you see that lovely young man going into that beautiful, peaceful house? His name is Duval, Dufour, Armand, Maurice, whatever you please. There is a woman who has spent her life loving that evil creature: she died. I’m sure she’s a saint in heaven right now. You are going to kill me the way he killed that woman. That’s what’s in store for all of us who have unselfish hearts…” Oh, dear! There were days when all men of action seemed to him like the toys of some grotesque raving: he would laugh, horribly, on and on. - Then he would go back to acting like a young mother, or an older sister. If he were not such a wild thing, we would be saved! But even his sweetness is mortal. I am his slave. - Oh, I’ve lost my mind! “Some day maybe he’ll just disappear miraculously, but I absolutely must be told about it, I mean if he’s going to go back up into heaven or someplace, so that I can go and watch for just a minute the Assumption of my darling boy!” Delirium I: The Foolish Virgin, A Season In Hell | Arthur Rimbaud Photo: Arthur Rimbaud in New York | David Wojnarowicz

petitmal:

”- Do you see that lovely young man going into that beautiful, peaceful house? His name is Duval, Dufour, Armand, Maurice, whatever you please. There is a woman who has spent her life loving that evil creature: she died. I’m sure she’s a saint in heaven right now. You are going to kill me the way he killed that woman. That’s what’s in store for all of us who have unselfish hearts…” Oh, dear! There were days when all men of action seemed to him like the toys of some grotesque raving: he would laugh, horribly, on and on. - Then he would go back to acting like a young mother, or an older sister. If he were not such a wild thing, we would be saved! But even his sweetness is mortal. I am his slave. - Oh, I’ve lost my mind!

“Some day maybe he’ll just disappear miraculously, but I absolutely must be told about it, I mean if he’s going to go back up into heaven or someplace, so that I can go and watch for just a minute the Assumption of my darling boy!”

Delirium I: The Foolish Virgin, A Season In Hell | Arthur Rimbaud

Photo: Arthur Rimbaud in New York | David Wojnarowicz

11 notes · rimbaud, season in hell, photography, wojnarowicz,
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