Island

As I walked down a corridor, I was suddenly aware of the illusion of my position and the growing feeling of being interned in a room. The room of my mind, the room of visual constraints, the room of my palpable self. A surge of anxiety manifested itself as a mass of flesh resembling an island in my minds eye. This dream of reason has created an island like the calcification of a lost dream. The flower of an unjust mind this rubious isle. A tomato dug out of clay like cochineal on a mound of skin. The island dream is of flesh outside flesh, almost a formless mass of emotion, an indulgence of the senses and simultaneously o.n epiphany in a secular world, a spiritual turbulence. Romanticism - what does that signify today? My landscape is a continuation of the room - the illusion of finite space within infinite space - a thirst for shadows. My cloth is a fleshy dream inserted into the drawings like the frenzied fettered fowl that is the heart within us.