world feels off right now so we drink wine and imagine the world we want to create
so
Author: sidgore
on applause
The last note of the piece rings out and the piano fades to silence- Hands clap together like the start of rain. I have always been uncomfortable with applause, with that much energy directed towards me at once. I preferred to acknowledge the room with a wave of the hand and get off stage as … Continue reading on applause
progress
learning that plans are important to get the ship out of port, but being a good sailor is knowing how to navigate storms and surges learning that experience is not measured in the number of successes, but the hours spent resolving failures learning how to keep my head down, voice soft, and put in the … Continue reading progress
on originality
Rijksmuseum, The Netherlands what even is a unique piece of work? everything is a result of past experience and input uniqueness then is putting something together from your own specific chain of events, authentically (give thanks and steal boldly)
on continuity & development
Mt. Vesuvius, Italy We are not continuous The perceived continuity between our present and past versions self is a burden we do not need to carry It is an illusion Be always on the edge, as the critical point in a chemical reaction "You've changed" "Yes" You do not owe rationale to anyone Not even … Continue reading on continuity & development
knives & notes
Cooking is music, really Ingredients are notes on the staff, recipes are chords, and the plate is silence Symphonies on the tongue of life and spice Respect the ingredients and understand them, there's history there Written in love
2020
[To a future version of myself, I want to remind you how this feels right now.] I have never been so distant from myself before. The heart is a sensitive thing. Often said that empathy is a strength but, it hurts to feel everything at a point in time where I'm still figuring out myself. … Continue reading 2020
life is sad poetry
we like to think of it as a happy ballad but life is sad poetry because even the brightest flowers wither and even the wisest trees rot (but find the beauty in this)
orbits
Separate orbits Tiny wanderers drifting around an unknown invisible center What a privilege to have crossed orbits Among the expanse Each a universe unto their own
find it
in between rays of light through wistful cotton within blood rushing through veins next to rivers lapping over stubborn stones among dimly lit rooms with bright eyes and colorful drawings on the walls along silhouettes of branches against navy skies from the pin pricks of light piercing through the black fabric which holds us through … Continue reading find it
