tangible_life endless desire if i became (the) picture would you see me for who i was-- am. who i am. i am not gone. . .yet. je suis. now let me start again if i became (your) picture would you see me for who i am? or would you glance by me as the children do when they are taken to art museums they'll never appreciate. my grandmother always scolded me, i remember, for rushing past so quickly. i always wanted something to do, to touch. tangible--i love that word. tangible feels tangible to me, a secret onomatopoeia. that's no an easy word to spell. oh see, now i am off track. i would rush for something to touch. "hands on" i suppose. espcially in aquariums. they'd have beautiful displays and pictures but the world was racing past me. a million miles an hour and i wanted to grab all of it. the way you think of dust in the wind. autumn dust. magical thing. i always picture dust from disney movies. brilliant sparkle. pixy dust. just a child, leaping, fingers as wide as i could make them. out stretched arms. i just needed brilliant dust. life. in that field i've never been but always dreamt of passing me a million miles an hour. i suppose you could say i've always wanted to make life tangible. something i could grab in my hand and admire. not something to stare at from behind some barrier. or alarm system or guard or camera or anything. what artist never wanted someone to run their fingers down the dried paint admire the colours, the texture? rough or smooth or neither. any artist who's work receives my admiration would be ok if i understood it more. if i explored beauty. appreciated it. or so i thought, . . .in the days when i thought the world longed for me to love it back. when i thought everyone saw me and wanted me to see the them in return. i understand why i was wrong, no need to tell me again. i know now that those things don't matter. understanding appreciation love from a wandering girl, a dreaming girl. exploring the things she thought she could grab and hold. if i became (a) picture would you see me for who i was? or would they glance by her as the people do when they are placed in a life they'll never appreciate. hands tangible dust love girl wrong. you can walk away. but i've been planted in the ground and i'd like to bloom, if that's ok. 030918 ... mourninglight . 040901 ... . beautiful. 050111 ... pete "[O]ne perceives different pieces of armor to be designed for different limbs, and an activity to be lawful until a certain hour but not afterward, and something to be permitted or even ordered in a corner but forbidden and punished elsewhere. Does this mean that justice is fickle and changeable? No, but the epochs over which she rules do not all unfold in the same way, precisely because times change. Human beings live on earth for a brief span only, and they lack the discernment to bring the conditions of earlier ages, of which they have no experience, into the same frame of referencewith those they know well; bu they can easily perceive in one body or one day or one house what is appropriate for each limb, each period of time and all persons and places. Thus while they may be scandalized by the one, they readily submit to the other." St. Augustine, The Confessions III:7,13 050111 what's it to you? who go blather from