How I feel about art

But first, an exercise in me.

Poems that give one feelings of art give happiness.

You who make the mysteries that are peaceful, are ...

You do not know what I feel about this cruelty called ...

I dreamed of making love to ...

Why I deny my own maturity:

Stay where reality makes miss...

Hope.

I write what is lying.

I did give my breath to the offerings of whores.

This was when I was with my sister/mothers.

She knew that I called for her chastity.

I wanted a strong lift.

Crashed the freedom of love.

I really wanted to make people want poems -- of beauty and presence.

To live these poems, to make my life a poem was the same as feelings -- of art and acid.

August is the way where chastity is fear.

I know that there is some one who is peaceful.  She gives love.  I made her a friend to be my hour.

She is always here -- in my life, in my hopes, in my feelings.

For me, you were here (on this planet) to make my life my own.

I remember that when you gave me a dream that I was a fool.  Now I know that you were safe in your beauty.

This knowledge will make my art my rose.

[You may have noticed that I have PLENTY of private symbols/imagery in my writing.  This presents a problem for others who wish, for whatever reason, to read it.]

As long as you are free, make your life good.

[Good:  another strong life; strong:  devoted, beautiful, happy, magickal.]

I have made another art, called illness.  I wish to let it go.

I care that when there is peace, that you have change. 

I will never live where there is pain...

As you know, I need to stop where this dream is love.

My mother just woke up.

Thank you for being true.

Love,

Julia

Chap is laced.





I know I didn't write about art. 

Immanence, passion, love.

Crime, Pain, tempo.


Art gives change by being peaceful.

I live to change.

Therefore, I will be beautiful.