I was born in your ancestors And I still live in your mind I thrive on curiosity And come alive between minds Without me the world as you know it wouldn’t exist The imaginary world The built world I built religion, politics, money I can build more I can build…

It is the year 2024 (anno domini), or the year 1740 (of the era of martyrs), or the year 2777 (by the count of the Caesar), or the year 231 (since the people stormed the Bastille). It is March, or Paremhat, or Einmánuður—the Lone Month—the last month of Winter.  …

I am excited and tense about this imminent departure. Living in a poetic and sensual society is how I would like to live in everyday life. These are the foundations on which I try to build my community and my artistic and human practice. I wonder what happens in living…

I perform in your mind where do you begin to tell my end are you doing it for me what is beyond your mind and inside where do I exist and why do I do what I do how much do you create create me and you ?

“Do I need to be fed?” the eyes asked the mouth, “Do I need imagery to stay alive?” “Would I starve without food?” the mouth then answered “Have a drink!” the eyes rapidly replied “Then do the same” the mouth said “Soak your glare, let the tears roll down to…

Invigorating all that invigorment  and Science “Not on my lawn!”  they shrieked and then they burst into laughter . . .  All your kind eyes exited faces tired horses waking up every day showering of gratitude bound and entangled crystallized singing laughing mind-bending porride and onion brushing your teeth  and…

I arrive. In the depth of an ocean they come closer their pearls spill on my face their neck covers me The smell I am reminded of air. I am a distortion of nature. I move around the solids. I look for cracks I sleep. …cracks to fill, but hard…

Crushed Lips. Colour me in every eye. I meet your question. My metal fingers melt into the cracks of your palm. Connecting the air of the skin, to the flesh, to the bones, and what fills the space in between. What exists in this vivid, yet completely still moment is…

UNMAKING BEDS I USED TO SLEEP IN REMOVING THE SAFETY BLANKET LETTING AIR IN UNDER MY SKIN FORGETTING NIGHTMARES CREATING DREAMS MANIFESTING A NEW REALITY ?

Not a home, per say but a pyre on which to cast ones self and be immolated.