Won’t, 1997, 15″ x 19″, by Steven B. Smith – foto by Smith


Buried beneath
Your borrowed beliefs

A moon toad
Asleep in the river

No beginning
No end

No place to be
Or have been

– Steven B. Smith (thnx to Lady for rediscovering this one)

There are two reality paths flowing through our apartment: I walk the everyday task path in this world of the mundane using logic while Lady works a world of alternate beliefs in shamans, miracles, magic message iPods, and direct communication with God/s. Same third floor apartment, two different universes. (We did move in on April Fool’s Day, so maybe this is Reality’s little joke on us).

It does make communication awkward though since we’re dealing from different systems, beliefs, mythologies, dictionaries.

Have to wait to see how two such structurally different planes eventually reconcile into one life-couple collaboration – although we had a similar situation eight months ago down Mexico way, and I’m not sure that one ever did exactly reconcile.

I guess reality depends on what philosophical path you take down which rabbit hole.

White Rabbit

by Jefferson Airplane, 1967

One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don’t do anything at all
Go ask Alice
When she’s ten feet tall

And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you’re going to fall
Tell ’em a hookah smoking caterpillar
Has given you the call
Call Alice
When she was just small

When men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go
And you’ve just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving slow
Go ask Alice
I think she’ll know

When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen’s “off with her head!”
Remember what the dormouse said;

Stephen Strange, 1977, 7″ x 12″, by Steven B. Smith – foto by Smith

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