Saturday, September 04, 2010


"Sometimes I wonder how my wife reconciles loving this wandering mess that is me. The unspoken fear of so many artists is the discovery of true love. Not the kind of love that burns hard and fast, but the kind that smolders with no end and wouldn't let you go if you tried. I can't speak for all writers, but I know I speak for many when I say that it is a secret fear amongst us that with this smoldering comes the death of an atomic dream. New love is easy art. In the stirring of discovery poetry grows from seed to sunlight in short blistering days. In the light of the unknown the mystery of another makes anything seem possible. In love we are reborn in a frenzied blaze of hyper existence. In the dissolution of love we are blown to pieces. Some pieces we collect in the fallout of moving on and others we leave behind; thumb tacks on the great maps of our personal histories, showing us all the places that we have been." - Andrew McMahon

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