Saturday, July 23, 2005
Mothers
So, I emailed this whole link to my creative mother. She said I shouldn't have shown off so much about my personal life. And she's an artist. I think to myself, that's what art is! Exposing the most tender, fragile parts of yourself through some kind of medium. Personally, I think it was the Shit Essay that did it. Of course, what's ironic about her offense to the essay is that's my POINT EXACTLY; we really shouldn't be sharing these things with others. Bathroom time is quality time. Of course, my crudeness absolutely eliminates any sense of propriety, and therefore, my dear mother is probably heartbroken.

So, for Mom--I'm sorry I offended you. Please note: this website will continue to be mildly offensive.

I wonder what people thought of Picasso's nudes. I think they are mildly offensive, myself. And Freud! He had a mother! What in the world did SHE think? Egads!

More later on mothers; now I am off to spend time with Michael's parents. More on that later, too.
Written by FRITZ
| Link | 2 wise cracks! |



Name: Fritz

Location: Detroit Rock City!
Where the weak are killed and eaten

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    We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, unremembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. -T.S. Eliot "Little Gidding"

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