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seraphemera: diamonds to dust

the end of art

26 September
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i was born in 1888 but LiveJournal says that it such is an invalid year...so 1907 it will be then.

i feel as if i have lived one thousand years...or at least experienced as much...you, too, know if you are an old one...all in all I gave up on caring about my age and stopped celebrating my birthday anyway...

living by the belief that self-expression, alone, is not art...tired of memoir culture allowing opinion to be the pinnacle of one's evolution - to know thyself is only a beginning, yet another door of freedom toward the ultimate liberation: a clearly objective mind - or that which might be distilled into the one word of "vision"...

ever in search of wings and fire and the flight that comes from the synthesis of these concepts...constantly changing, daring to evolve, attempting to be wrong with the root of experience over academia in sight...

in relentless search for endless possibility, to see us through this age of infinite choice...