There is a vote of convidence inside that gray mass that subsitutes for my caucasian mind, reminding me of divine inspiration, though late at night and hard work in the morning at that ever existent petting zoo in Westerpark where the horse manure and cow dung, sheep shit and goat droppings keep piling up if I don't turn up first thing after waking up, cleaning and heaving animal waste product untill my arms drop off from sheer exhaustion...shit, I am getting old...
But no, that vote of convidence rings uppermost in my mind, alluring images of the male world that betray divine inspiration that has to be followed up untill the bitter end, forget the warm bed and sweet dreams, more red wine down the old male throat and the smell of fresh paint instead entering my nostrils...
But no, I will have to get the last of my visitors out first, the Amsterdam soccer team's historic victory over Barca should be talked into the ground, the team's coach's smilefull reflections notwithstanding, get out and let me be, let me freak around with my jars of acrylic and let these alluring images if the male world come out and turned into colorfull nudes on paper found in the street...
I have the distinct feeling it will be well into the morning before Lord Morpheus' kingdom will overcome me...
After all to die is free, though it will only cost you your life...Pas De Problem there but I fear that that asylum of heavenly bodies will be devoid of paint, so much better to let my divine inspiration rule free here on Mother Earth.
No comments:
Post a Comment