I want to sit here in the now, in the Sun, in the air, in this eternal now. Flags of cultural icons crackle in the breeze. Could it be true? That this day will never end? I want to sit here and drink every holy photon that emanates from your tender fires. Even the rocks scream out for more!
Artist is heyoka. Artist is madman, clown, visionary, speaker of untamed ideas, cultivator of undomesticated spirits. We have gathered here this day to celebrate the rising of the dawn, to frolic through the lilies of life – rosy fields wrought with stubborn thorns prick our souls into awakening.
Staggering madmen lead cattle down the dark hall. Jim was right, nobody gets out of here alive.
I want to sit here, in heyoka, in madman, in clown, in visionary, in cultivator of undomesticated spirits.