The futile, furtive body running on slams into a self-erected brick bodice sought for an end, but with no preconceived notion of an end, it simply allows confusion to reign. Opaque, yet translucent to the rest, it surfaces from time to time in a seemingly mocking fashion, only to recede with as much advanced notice as its arrival heralded. There is no concrete end to reach, which allows for every facet of desire to boldly enter into the mind if it sits passively even for but the smallest increment of time. A mind burning with an overwhelming degree of directions and paths to lead to sparks that ignite the fire. Pursuing the current course until the wick burns out or the gunpowder explodes – one false step allows passivity to creep in once more and for another desire to add itself to the already drowning abyss and pull everything else into it, and no end has yet been reached. Is it a fear of what attaining an input actually bring? Is it the fear that a concrete end tried for is lost would bring? Is it fear at all? The only thing that is understood (if even that is to be true) is at the mind must burn, with one or with a hundred, it matters not, but it must continue to burn, otherwise all systems would fail to function in a spectacular meltdown of the senses, of the body, of the mind, of the deep driving core that produces the individual, and losing that, would lead one back into the primordial black mass consuming everything served up to it. Be it served willingly or merely passively, it shall be consumed nonetheless, without the possibility for regurgitation. The dilemma between a thousand dead ends or an assured consummation/denigration appears practically one and the same. Both exist and survive only through fear, but without fear there is no reason for existence at all. Fear has led to all the great ones who think, who produce magnificent works of art, who live daily with an attainable or unattainable goal driving them on (unfortunately it all too often drives them backwards or forwards instead of simply driving them). Fear is my leader, my example, my teacher, my pupil, my self-destructive force escalating the breach of a crescendo; the skip placing a hole in the (self constructed) unity as it appears to destroy fear. In that space which we cannot conceive of (so we cannot destroy it) is where fear lives, alongside its counterpart – love.
– April 5, 2004