The Butcher's Dream
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We are a provisional creature.
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If you look for us in a million years, we'll be long gone.
It will be like we were never here.
We will join Neanderthal, Homo Habilus, Homo Ergaster, and the rest.
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In a hundred years, everyone alive right now will be dead.
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In four billion years our Sun will expand into a giant and we'll be swallowed up.
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After that, a few more billion years, comes the heat death of the universe.
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Make hay while the sun shines.
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It is the weekend and raining and there is going to be hot coffee, potatoes and eggs, fire in the fireplace, and art and art and art and art.
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Namaste.
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4 Comments:
Oh my GOD The Butcher's Dream. Oh my god. Damn damn. I don't know how to say it oh bunny oh blood oh key and the perfect pitch in the skinny forest your art moves me in immense ways.
xo
r
ps. Her (it looks like a woman) arms echo the trees. Lord.
Rebecca-
Oh bunny oh blood oh key might be the nicest thing I've heard about my art!
thank you, dear woman.
are the woods the sea? is the moon the lake? do we tear it with our teeth?
you betcha.
I don't know. But that I find the finity of it all to be incredibly comforting.
I guess forever scares me.
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