In Clarice Lispector's Near to the Wild Heart she says, "I don't feel madness in my wish to bite stars." Some nights this seems like the most sensible way to deal with the weight of the universe, all that emptiness pressing like a palm on the top of my head. As though we must bare our teeth and push back or be lost.
This weekend I saw some landscape paintings painted on aluminum that shone through the spaces that would normally be solid, all the water and clouds and pieces of sky. These were places that I wanted to walk through, made of light and transformed.
Some nights I want to put the stars whole in my mouth, turn sizzling and bright. Some nights it seems that the only way to deal with the vast emptiness of the universe is to become larger than it.
This weekend I saw some landscape paintings painted on aluminum that shone through the spaces that would normally be solid, all the water and clouds and pieces of sky. These were places that I wanted to walk through, made of light and transformed.
Some nights I want to put the stars whole in my mouth, turn sizzling and bright. Some nights it seems that the only way to deal with the vast emptiness of the universe is to become larger than it.
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