Monday, September 12, 2011

Muscle and Flow

Hi girls.

Sat through 3 classes. Learned a Suffi poem that is not at all relevent to THIS situation but can be found on a princesses tombstone from 1584 in deep South East Asia. I wrote it in my notebook.
Listen. Verily the world is perishable, the world is not everlasting. Verily the world is like a web woven by a spider.
I like this a lot- even if it is a bit defeatist. At the same time it is...comforting. Don't worry because some overweight guy in a ball cap is gonna put his foot through your world anyday now... It's a HUGE day.
I'm in a weird mood because I spent the last 40 minutes talking to my strongest most fearsome friend who was crying his eyes out over lost love and broken hearts. It is difficult to relate as I have only ever learned of heartache through pop songs and romantic tragedies. One day a tall man with a well groomed mustache and a gentle french accent will sweep me away by the pelvis. He will leave me soon after with a heart in tatters and a mysterious smell in my house.
On a less sexual note, the painter of our house (now purple, pics to follow one day) gave me his card today after we got to talking.
This is he:
Which is funny because the last artist I met was named Steve also.

Also funny is this story that Alan told us today in class. He said he was in this Italian cultural center in Montreal that was built when Mussolini was everyone's fav. On the walls were non-figural symbols for fascism. He went across the street and through this little park with trees (drew a map on the blackboard) and on the ceiling of the copola there was, on one side, Mussolini and his minions who were smiling at, on the other side, the pope and his cardinals. A little bit horrified, Alan goes across the street and to some coffee shop to cool down. On the walls there were pictures of Mussolini and his bros looking all glorious and propped up by rampant propaganda. Anyway.
Mussolini was Time Magazine's Man of the Year in 1934.

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