34 35th St., Unit 26, Brooklyn, NY, 11232
old man mad about painting
i have no idea after the fact, what to make of this.
it's everywhere rough. it tries to bring everything in fast.
it's zen. there's no doubt. it's oud after shakuhachi.
oud chases shakuhachi down. it's ugly. it's empty.
id disappears. it is emptiness of gravitational horizons.
and it is the extension of bandwidths of virtual particles.
it gathers speed and collapses for no reason at all.
it challenges reason and causality and origin.
it is the refuse of a universe paradoxically emptied of time.
we note this from our position before we disappear.
like disappearance we take this sound with us.
this sound is already disappeared before generation tantra.
of completion tantra this sound is oblivious.
of the world there is this sound and there is this old man.
there is this old man mad about painting. i am that man.