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Failed Poems {failure is a success}

Odd, failing is, failing was, failing will be.

I’ve had my moments of completion… Last weekend I was so close to smashing the assembled boxes and plexi boxes. Not that I am displeased with my results–granted I am not happy with the results, they could be better–but I sense the fact that the pieces are a part of me and only me.  Maybe they need to just be in existence only to be wiped away.  If I am looking for this to be a therapy for myself, shouldn’t the boxes or containers that I pour these thoughts into be destroyed? Should I keep holding onto the thing that holds me down?

Even so, sometimes the idea is much more powerful then the result.  I was playing around with left over material and I created something just because I had extra pieces. its tiny, inconsequential, piece of art. {that may be going a bit far}  It is 2 pieces of plexi facing outward  and a 1×2 frame around it with nothing inside of it, but air. + ++Again there are many things that remind me of what the substance of hope is, but really hope is nothing in itself except hope+++  I thought about calling this little crappy symbol of art a hope box… Mainly, for the sheer fact that it is like capturing hope.  One could say that trapped inside this little box is hope, and hope being intangible one could be correct. {for the sake of argument}  This box in itself would contain hope and be hope all in one.  We hope that there could be hope inside this tiny little container, but to open it would remove all doubt, but you would ruin the box and ruin the prospect of hope. Does hope even exist? It must.   SO maybe I should just hold on to the box that is filled with hope and keep hope alive.  <—- Alright, I don’t want to end my blog entry like that… So I am going to use a dream I had recently to restate my “Hope Doesn’t Really Exist, Yes IT Does” idea.  I had a dream… {feel free to go ahead and comment your interpretations} about a contained grass area, there I was… and I was there, being attached/chased by Red Tailed Hawks–3 or 4 of them.  Not from the air but on the ground, chasing me…. Upon waking from that, I figured that there were their unhatched eggs on the ground and these hawks were defending them…  Really that is it, or at least what I remember.  So what does that have to do with HOPE? What about the eggs, I say? These hawks were defending their future their hope… the potential to live on.  Since I would assume that hawk eggs should be elevated and not placed in some open area maybe it would be best that they have their eggs in some other place… It kept me thinking, what of the eggs? These hawks were risking their lives on the ground for the the potential these eggs have.  When maybe it would be best to just forget these eggs and make more… Their hope seemed like fear… This is the only opportunity… These eggs, we may only have these eggs… So what now… Hope created from despair? A lack of one hope created the need for another hope?  Anyway… this is how I dream and how I interpret them… go figure…

Oh… Here’s my little hope box:  {4″ x 2″}

Fun box not part of the FP Project

Hope Box not part of the FP Project

Yep, all that’s inside is air.

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