The Inner Churning Ocean An Open Poem to the other Artist




An Open Poem to the other Artist,
Kristine Kjærsgaard Hansen

The feelings I am having inside are churning,
Your thoughts have been transmitted to me once again.
Over the sand of shores and northern sea.
Recalling memories of my fall, childhood abuse and all.
The recollection of my complete zwitter gender blendered discovery
Of my mysterious body and the secrets of what was done to it.
Something I can't forget especially when rejection was thrown at me.
When you appeared as a the light at the end of the tunnel
In the time of my distress, adding more distress.

I could not focus on our arrangements in the distress
As I only needed to express my feelings out.
Express myself so that I would feel better,
Not allowing me to express myself
Cut me deep inside
Torn from within.
I repeat
Why? Someone who is inspired by the intersexed,
Hermaphrodites and all, when meeting real ones
Rejection galore, I don't need anymore.
We Connected, and we are one,
Like the left brain connected to the right brain.
Enantiomeric chiral molecules.
Telepathic quantum entanglement of psychological projection.
Feeling your thoughts as you erase my positive comments
On your beautiful work that inspires me,
Strangely denying my inspiration that secretly assists your work.

In ways that could have been better ?
As I say you truly don't know me, and I truly don't know you
But from what I have observed, and sensed about our similarities,
Less our differences and similar problems and secrets,
Open or closed bilaterally, pink and blue yearning lilac.
Fuck the binary, we share in common.

Similarities of interests and those we are both perfectionist artists.
In real life we would we would have been best of friends,
None of this virtual bullshit, and internet drama
Misunderstandings and uncertainty, rejection and loss of trust,
But truth, transparency and drawing things
We continue to strive our art, and I am on your side
I and my madness protect your freedom of expression.
I never compete since I am another you and you are another me.

I say only when the painting is finished,
Would then we see the true picture.




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