L.a Is A Huge Place, Literally And

There Are No Categories In Contemporary Art. There Are No Rules. Artists Are Given The Freedom To Make And Create Whatever They Please And Call It Whatever They Please. I Identify With That System, Or Lack Of System, Much More Than I Do The Landscape Of Contemporary Publishing.

I Stand, Walk Over To Him, Sit Down On His Bed, Put My Arms Around Him, Hug Him. He Hugs Me Back Strong And I Can Feel The Shame Coming Through His Arms. I Am A Criminal And He Is A Judge And I Am White And He Is Black, But At This Moment None Of That Matters. He Is A Man Who Needs A Friends And I Can Be His Friend.

I Think Of How And Why And What Happened And The Thoughts Come Easily, But The Answers Don't.

It's The Third Book Of The Bible, Called The Final Testament Of The Holy Bible.my Idea Of What The Messiah Would Be Like If He Were Walking The Streets Of New York Today. What Would He Believe? What Would He Preach? How Would He Live? With Who?

I Want As Much Time In The Darkness As I Can Possibly Have. The Darkness Provides Cover, The Darkness Provides Places To Hide And The Darkness Provides Comfort. Darkness Usually Comes Around Dinner, But Dinner Would Be Too Obvious.