I can’t sleep when I think about the times we’re living in,

I can’t sleep when I think about the future I was born into,

Outsiders dressed up like Sunday morning,

With no Berlin wall what the hell you gonna do.

It’s a New Year,

I’m glad to be here

It’s a fresh spring,

So let’s sing.

In 2080

I’ll surely be dead

So don’t look ahead,

Never look ahead

And the moon shines bright

On the water tonight

So we won’t drown

In the summer sound.

If you find me I’ll be sitting by the water fountain,

Picket signs, letdowns, meltdown it’s Monday morning

But it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright

It’s alright,

Cause in no time, They’ll be gone I guess I’ll still be standing here.

Yeah Yeah we can all grab at the chance and be handsome farmers,

Yeah you can have twenty one sons and be blood when they marry my daughters,

And the pain that we left at the station will stay in a jar behind us.

We can pickle the pain into blue ribbon winners at county contests.

Yeasayer-2080

God, please have mercy on us

and let us reach the year 2080 with your blessing

and our changed attitude towards your planet.

Amen.

sneak peek

full painting..later when i have a better camera

the (unfinished) highest view in my room

(artist study)

I'm looking for a home, where the wheels are turning

Home, why I keep returning

Home, where my world is breaking in two

Home, with the neighbors fighting

Home, always so exciting

Home, were my parents telling the truth?

Home, such a funny feeling

Home, no one ever speaking

Home, with our bodies touching

Home, and the cameras watching

Home, will infect whatever you do

Where home, comes to life from out of the blue

Home- David Byrne & Brian Eno

grandparents' wall.

never gets tired looking at it.

im gonna have this one day in my own house.

this morning i woke up with weird, weird thought.

literally as soon as i opened my eyes,

i defined a tiny little bit of reality.

and it makes me happy.

Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thanks whatever gods may be,for my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of fate, my head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears, looms but the horror of the shade, and yet, the menace of the years finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishment the scroll,

I am the master of my fate - I am the captain of my soul.

-Nelson Mandela's Invictus

Don't you know that

Rome wasn't built in a day?