Life Is Short Art Is Long

When you learn how to paint you envision a world void of choice, then like time you give life to the future--creating a garden where the thoughts of a man dwell in oblivion. I have learned how to be a good storyteller--to narrate to unseen ears the miracles that existed before life was brought out of earth. But this life does not give me credence for my simplicity neither does it embrace my feelings when my soul seeks a home from fear. When I told the truth in August: about a Zulu king in heaven, about the voices that hid themselves beneath the sod, about time and the sincerity on a seer's tongue--I was romanced with fear, for I thought death would come like unwanted sleep. But I have done well. I have made anew the things that matter most to existence: the complexity of time--which is to rationalize confusion; and the believe that life is fiction--and most importantly to stay at home.