Sometimes there is no way to say the things that we really need to say. They stay with us at the base of our spine and we think that someday they will all come spurting out, travel up through our backs and over our neck, to the tip of our tongue to be revealed by our lips, but sometimes they are homebodies and never leave. The world does not wait for them to renew their passport and get the hell out of there, and before long it is too late. But there is a difference between the things we do not say and the things that we cannot say. The latter are stubborn, more powerful than our screams and our tears and they mock us when we try to speak their message, transforming into "blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah" and turning back as soon as the mouth is closed. I want to tell you but there is no way. The words have colonized the bottom of my spine and that is where they will stay.
Does anyone else, when they see an incredibly deflated balloon, have the urge to jump on and pop it, but refrain from doing so because you feel like you'd be destroying something somehow? It seems like so much fun and it's not every day that you see a deflated balloon just hanging around but I still can't bring myself to do it.
Does anyone else, when they see an incredibly deflated balloon, have the urge to jump on and pop it, but refrain from doing so because you feel like you'd be destroying something somehow? It seems like so much fun and it's not every day that you see a deflated balloon just hanging around but I still can't bring myself to do it.
The following is a (extremely non-discriptive and poorly scanned) study for my next project -- I definitely have other ideas for it beyond what is here but this is the basic surface sketch of the animal. I want to experiment more with materials, especially cellophane and gauze. Any other ideas?
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