tchee
I'm delighted to meet you. I'm delighted to receive this award. Delighted. Such a whimsical twist to it. Imagine the wick of a candle sparking into flame. A tiny one. But glowing, and warm, and bright nonetheless. I haven't been genuinely delighted in a long time.
this word. i heard it thrown around so much in art theory lessons, as well as in my magical realism class. its supposed to mean something that is greater than existence or understanding. and i haven't been able to see how this applies to art, to be honest. i've come to realise that it's something that i associate more with the feeling of standing in front of a majestic landscape, or the sensation of a blizzard whipping snow at your cheeks, or the feeling of being engulfed when you lie down on grass and look at the clouds swim overhead. or the feeling of someone brushing my hair behind my ears, soft lips against mine. when i look into his eyes and i see myself and think that this is the only place that i really, truly, exist. that's all i can call sublime.
triplets. three. three of the same person. well not the same person. three beings that look alike. identical. a three way mirror. i wonder what that would be like. i could see myself as a doctor. or maybe a lawyer. or a writer. i am here, painting. maybe i'd need quintuplets to see everything that i think can do with my life.