Sunday, September 18, 2005

All of this lay before Michael's Jackson Pollock canvas. It is eight feet tall, and the red paint is the same that is on the ceiling...err..floor. My only thought was, when the splatter first hit, "My, now he's taken the same genre from the canvas onto the floor!" If we had left the splatter there, I believe it would have been a statement unlike any other.
Written by FRITZ
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Name: Fritz

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

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What My Brain is Eating
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    What I Live By:
    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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