Iris....

I didn't see the real him until I looked closer; "the closer you look at something the more you will see", my mind told me. He was a play of the entire spectrum of colors, and in his center dwelt a warm, sweet, pool of movement; ink black, and lively at the slightest touch like poking a bead of mercury. His movement was drawn from the perimeter to the center, with a circumference of the richest azure. And this was only a minute speck of his entirety. To fathom his whole being would dizzy the minds of some of the greatest thinkers.

Conceptual...

He was corroded, rusted, and painted on a bit. He already had character that I saw at first glance from a distance. So I approached him. I walked up to him and said "My god! You would would make a great background for something." He was a man of little words, but he seemed friendly enough, and we had a common denominator in that we both had much to reveal. I invited him into my studio and we began discussing the beauty of electronic music. We discussed, at length, our appreciation of how a cold, inhuman machine is quite capable of creating sounds and visions that are tender, loving, and forgiving. I suggested that we try to capture those sounds into a visual form. He agreed, albeit reluctantly at first. But he had been through so much anyway that he was used it by now. We tried several different methods, each method seemingly getting more invasive, provocative. As the night drew on, we found our niche, and he began to shine more than ever. He revealed sides of himself that he had never let anyone see before; sides of himself that even he never knew he had. This was truly intimate. He was damaged, but he was beautiful. He became forceful and held me in a trance along with the music until dawn broke the next morning. When we were finished, I told him that this was "the most satisfying thing I've ever done." He paused in all of his new found beauty, "But, I am nothing." He replied. "You are a lovely idea borne of all of our self discoveries" I responded without hesitation. "You were not meant to be concrete in this world". And with that re-assurance, our liaison ended, and he disappeared into the brisk morning...

There's someone next to me, but no one is there. She is my scapegoat. My vehicle to speak cryptically. A way to reveal information in a round about way......