muck in hero² in muck

Mirror, please mirror,
Give me clouds in your eyes
To cry to the moon.

 

Dormir la lune

 

Everyone is someone’s hero.

I like the idea of focusing on it. Trying to imagine what kind of hero is hiding and seeking in the lovely, ugly, beautiful, disgusting sentient being considered, imagined, as a ‘hero for someone’, maybe also for oneself, is generally a challenging part when ordinary life stinks of ordinariness. Not to mention of dramas, with villains. Sometimes, a lot of imagination is needed. Other times, it’s so obvious it’s difficult not to try to perceive the darkest face of the obvious hero instead of staying focused on ordinary heroism, if not extraordinary. Anyway, ‘everyone is someone’s hero’ and I find that comforting, mainly because of the good company one finds everywhere. If ‘everyone is someone’s hero’ is actually not true (which can’t but could be), someone can start being a hero just because of being perceived as having the potential to be one, and encouraged as such. But then, what is a hero and who actually wants to be one? It sounds like spontaneous hard work, on a daily basis, or a miracle. Too much. Some worlds have very little heroes because of being too busy dimming away their lives. Never enough.

 

Drugs don't work, you work

drugs don’t work, you work

(probably doesn’t need much of a conceptual explanation)

Painted in 2005. The vertical brown stick behind the odd face was meant to be similar, as well as different, to the horizontal cloud to express the illusory nature of (self-induced) delusions. That illusory nature of a form of reality can be a buoy for some busy heroes covered in muck, stuck in ice, their backs to the cycles of the rest of the natural world and life. If perceived, it gets easier to consider the diminished and dim self in the mirror as someone’s hero. And that’s some connection. A passport to extraordinary ordinary life.

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