I get struck by inspiration occasionally.

And then I wonder what to do with it.

And then I remember what John Jarmusch says. 

“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. Always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: 'It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.'”

And my first thought?

"But...plagiarism..."

So I correct myself.

This is soul research.

In this case, the resources are different.

There will be no works cited page.

No bibliography.

Wouldn't true artists and kind people be perfectly content to let the products of their being just seep into someone else's being?

Perhaps the little details of life need no footnote.

They're just there.

Free Indeed.

 

 

 

We can be free.

 

Free indeed.

 

Just a thought that's been on my heart recently.

 

Also, an update from my mind...

 

I want to go everywhere.

 

I probably wouldn't like everywhere if I went there.

 

There are so many things that go into museum work.

 

I think I'm too nice to be an "academic".

 

I really like socks.

 

I really miss theatre.

 

It's very hard to not eat chocolate when it's in the vicinity and free for the taking.

 

Whoever had the idea to put a coffee shop in a small college town was a genius.

 

They're also probably very wealthy.

 

Despicable people.

 

"Taking money from bored and stressed college kids since 2010!"

 

I wish the library here was prettier.

 

Hard-boiled eggs are the best snack ever.

 

I am thankful.

 

Despite my complaints.

 

Despite it all.

 

Light

 

I think that light speaks to me.

 

I'm not sure why.

 

But I soak in natural light.

 

It gives me energy.

 

It calms me down.

 

I can't stand the harsh fluorescent lights everywhere.

 

Everything is washed out, fades the colors.

 

Things look more beautiful in real, rich light.

 

There is a woship song that says,

 

"I will celebrate the light..."

 

Perhaps I will.

 

Candlelight.

 

Sunlight coming through leaves in a tree.

 

Early morning sun filtering through a curtain.

 

Twilight making everything blue.

 

I want more light.