Raven in Green again..

nothings changed the senates still corrupt & the emporer remains insane, and every day, is a new strain of slaughter, supply lines are less protected, evil on all sides, eye can smell the death on your flesh--creeping in, trapped within the twisting fingers of fear, and all eye see is ewe, that face, those eyes, burning like leprosy, eye can see u there poisoning the air, prostituing Nationalism, and eye want to attack, to rip out your heart and lay you flat on your back, and vomit a world of agony and truth into your throbbing illness of memory...and hate guides our way, eye long for the icy slap of a belt across my back, for the acceptance of death and blind cave war, the giving sleep of depression, the sweet elucidation of savage meaningless agression, chiseled in the meaty forearms of Mother Jupiter and his slave disciples, in the harem tents--outside, just beyond the edges--eye ride, a cycoptic mare in the fires of imagination. feeding my disease, a river of plagues, eye need something to remind me I'm still sinning that pain is important, that wurdz matter, that healing is possible, that eye am not alone ...in this --guard the houses--triple the watch,--Maidens, dig up your sorcery --sirens, sharpen your rocks..ewe will eat my pain again. whatever you need unite messiah ME

--Wurdz by Otep Shamaya

my drawing/sculpture prof.
May 02, 2003 1:05 a.m.

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I found out something rather sad today.

My Drawing/sculputre professor has always been alittle odd. He's very opinionated and rather tempramental. On some days he become irritated very easily....rather impatient, others he's incredibly helpful.

There has been an over all understanding that next year will be the last year he is teaching. ....I just assumed his mood swings were a result of his becoming burn out.

However, today someone told me that he as parkinson's disease, this is why his hands shake. ...I had noticed them shaking but never paid much attention to it.

and that got me thinking. Aside from blindness that has to be one of the worst possible things to happen to an artist, especially one of his talents. His work is usually very figurtive, very realistic. He as an amazing skill for drawing and sculpting. To have such control and skill with your hands it has to be agony to lose it. ...To lose that gift. ....To know you used to be able to draw a beautifully controlled line,....or create perfect welds, and then to slowly have that taken away from you alittle each day....that has to be so horrible.

and then I got to thinking,....My Grandmother had it. I have to pray that that doesn't happen to me. Because say what you want about my working non-objectively

...but my lines are controlled. My lines are controlled and confident and that's what I love about them, I don't know what I would do if I lost that.