When I woke up in the night my pillow smelled of roses. This was, I realize now, because of the rosewater splashed onto my hands at the Moroccan restaurant. At 3 am, though, with my apartment glowing softly from the lights of my city, the smell of roses was just right. Everything was sweet and warm, and I went back to sleep.
An artist I have always admired is Felix Gonzalez-Torres, who in his too-brief life created tributes to love and memory and anger through ephemeral installations. Whenever I feel like my skin is showing all of my secrets, I remember how he put up billboards of an empty bed all over New York as a tribute to his deceased lover, how his strings of individual lightbulbs were each a memory, and how a pile of candy was an invitation for passers-by to take a piece of his devotion home with them. It's those times that I take down my blue-wrapped candy and remember what the point of going further is.
These are the reasons I study art.
reason #375 I should be in a band: to try out fashion adventures that are ever-so-slightly too much for every day.
Call me if you need me, if you're looking as lost as I'm feeling. I can offer a hand and if you take it we'll head off into the woods like Hansel and Gretel.
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