From a stoplight a couple of weeks ago in downtown Aurora I noticed down a cross-street at a bus stop a man with a backpack wearing [my memory seems to be controlling what I though he was wearing, it may have been a flannel overshirt or neutral blazer] -- from thirty yards with no objections from the spouse -- looked eerily identical to my late brother. All I could do was stare, obviously with a knowing belief/disbelief of a spectre waiting patiently for an RTD bus. My mind was set on that for a few moments, as yours would, or may have been, if you've ever been in this situation.
Over the next few days my mind battled my soul while I schemed and fabricated situations; could that have been Scott, who as an artist with an easel, brush and colors, brushed himself on a damned stage portraying the terrible events of Halloween, 2006, but escaped through a trap-door underneath the smokey hardwood as the curtains dropped, then tore the canvas off of his easel and framed it on the wall for us to see, while with pastel colors, smudged a re-envisioned reality somewhere in Colorado?
As a simpler interpretation, what if, all of the hype and tension that led up to that Halloween was just a setting up for a grand exit to a - I'm having a hard time find a way to even WORD this - but have you heard of those tortured/genius minds whose perspectives draw them far beyond what anybody else would fathom, such as faking death to escape to a detached but vivid introverted life? And through random voyeurism -- I witnessed him waiting for an RTD bus.
I guess that the obvious silver bullet would be the fact that my Father, and perhaps Donna, viewed the product of the day. Omit that fact. Replace it with a conspiracy idea that they were willingly and perhaps reluctantly a part of that painting, acting on a stage to fool the world.
Stage, movies, music -- Shakespeare is real while the metered lyrics are vocalized. Even the battle between Bella and Edward ... yes, I'm actually citing THAT book/movie to say that art can create a reality, even if it's fictitous.
Some people believe legends about Jim Morrison, and that's an example of what I was trying to say.
Anyways, I think I've squeezed the sponge and this note is done. KMFDM's Blitz is now in my brain.
Over the next few days my mind battled my soul while I schemed and fabricated situations; could that have been Scott, who as an artist with an easel, brush and colors, brushed himself on a damned stage portraying the terrible events of Halloween, 2006, but escaped through a trap-door underneath the smokey hardwood as the curtains dropped, then tore the canvas off of his easel and framed it on the wall for us to see, while with pastel colors, smudged a re-envisioned reality somewhere in Colorado?
As a simpler interpretation, what if, all of the hype and tension that led up to that Halloween was just a setting up for a grand exit to a - I'm having a hard time find a way to even WORD this - but have you heard of those tortured/genius minds whose perspectives draw them far beyond what anybody else would fathom, such as faking death to escape to a detached but vivid introverted life? And through random voyeurism -- I witnessed him waiting for an RTD bus.
I guess that the obvious silver bullet would be the fact that my Father, and perhaps Donna, viewed the product of the day. Omit that fact. Replace it with a conspiracy idea that they were willingly and perhaps reluctantly a part of that painting, acting on a stage to fool the world.
Stage, movies, music -- Shakespeare is real while the metered lyrics are vocalized. Even the battle between Bella and Edward ... yes, I'm actually citing THAT book/movie to say that art can create a reality, even if it's fictitous.
Some people believe legends about Jim Morrison, and that's an example of what I was trying to say.
Anyways, I think I've squeezed the sponge and this note is done. KMFDM's Blitz is now in my brain.
