Poppies Bleed Petals Of Sheer Excess. You

I Could Hear The Icy Winds Of Sweden, But He Didn't Seem To Feel The Chill.

The Nearest I'd Come To Feeling Anything Like God Was The Plan Blue Cloudless Sky And A Certain Silence, But How Do You Pray To That?

Oleander Time, She Said. Lovers Who Kill Each Other Now Will Blame It On The Wind.

I Imagined Kandinsky's Mind, Spread Out All Over The World, And Then Gathered Together. Everyone Having Only A Piece Of The Puzzle. Only In A Show Like This Could You See The Complete Picture, Stack The Pieces Up, Hold Them To The Light, See How It All Fit Together. It Made Me Hopeful, Like Someday My Life Would Make Sense Too, If I Could Just Hold All The Pieces Together At The Same Time.

I'm Always Gratified When I Check Something I've Made Up And Discover That I've Gotten It Right. How Can We Imagine Something That Turns Out To Be True? How Can We Know Things We Couldn't Possibly Know? It Makes Me Wonder About The Existence Of A Collective Unconscious.