__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ — Vincent Van Gogh, to his brother, Theo, . . . I want to reach so far that people will say of my work: he feels deeply, he feels tenderly — notwithstanding my so-called roughness, perhaps even because of this . . . It is true that I am often in the greatest misery, but still there is within me a calm pure harmony and music. __________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ 1993 - 1997

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Ah, if i could begin by telling you who I am, how easy it would then be, if you could know all that i had been thru, all that i had lived, it would then be so easy, i could then simply say, "remember that house, remember the street, remember the tree," and you would nod your head kindly, and say, "yes, i remember," and you would know the child that climbed that tree when it used to be so much bigger, and all the other games and faces that lived it with me, and unspoken too, would be all the years between here and there that have made those days so sweet, and then we could walk on together quietly enjoying the night and the sounds and smells of my youth, and then in this wishful dream of mine, we might come upon this spot beneath a light on this corner near my home, and I could say so easily, "remember that night," and the water in my eyes would be understood and you would smile, ever so kindly, and say, "yes, I remember" Arthur, 1993,

the emptyness, the long dark clouds inside my eyes and the so so very often i am alone, it is the emptyness, it is how the lonelyness and the empty nights spent walking and thinking alone speak to me, it is the distant thoughts of the deepest reaches of my soul shared with noone, it is joyous moments when i discover the beauty of a word or two shared with a home filled only with the sounds of a man moving to and fro, working sometimes just listening, it is time and time and time days and weeks months and years known intimately and the pictures on my walls and the moments they awaken, all speaking of a life and world heard by myself alone, it is how so very full my thoughts are, and the richness of every little thing i touch, it is how again and again and again i share these things with no one but myself, it is all of these things forgotten and covered with dust, it is the blood in my arms and veins and the sound of my heart beating, it is so many things lost or shared only with the wind, the so so very kind wind, it is how alone i have come to relish and love its whispers and roars, it is the emptyness that comes sometimes at night or in the day or in the twilight of the sun setting or rising, it is the emptyness shared with noone, Arthur, 1993,

i could tell you of my loves, i could tell you of warm and tender things from my heart, i could tell you of smiles i have found from the simple touch of a woman's hand, what would you have me tell you, i could tell you of myself as a man, the feelings a man has towards a women, the gentle desires, and gracious gestures, the simple childlike wonders at the softness of flesh and bone, the touch and smoothness of a women's body held close and the dreams of a lady naked and willing and wanting, might i not sleep in another's arms, and tell her of my day, might we not share in the night's silence and whisper of our most holy of holies, might we not learn from each other and listen to each other, might we not give of our most cherished insides, might i not find a little bit of myself in her and also too a bit of her in me, might we not add to each other, might i not bring to this world a new thing, might we not find in each other a oneness between us, Arthur, 1993,

________________________________________________________________________________________ early sunday morning,

please let these words speak and just listen, slowly, I am a man, I realize you dont know what that means, I realize you dont know what that means, to me, but, I am, a man, and that means worlds to me, worlds, and for now, at least, that is, a beginning, : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : what i want to say is, know, who you are, live, who you are, relish in, who you are, it is a beautiful, wonderful, new and magical, thing, this, who you are-

and this powerful angel came to me, he came to ask, bid, and grant me, but one wish, i looked at him, slowly, and then, calmly, i spoke, and said, "ah, happiness," he laughed and jumped high into the air, as genies are want to do, and said, "Hah! Child, I have won your soul, for I shall grant you your one wish, and you shall have your happiness, you have won the game, it is over, the story is done and finished," "ah," i said, "but that is not my happiness, that is yours, mine i have yet to see"

Arthur, december 5th 1993, early sunday morning, ________________________________________________________________________________________

there is such a sadness within me, i could never explain, i do not know how to begin, it would make no sense, i once wrote, "the unutterable sadness of being alone" but what could i tell you of this, what could i say to make it more clear, to explain it and from whence it has come, if you were to know my beginnings, or, the mountains and deep valleys i have crossed, or the waters i have sailed, the women i have loved, and oh have i loved them, if you were to know how i have loved them, if you were to know the soft and slow patient time i have spent loving them, maybe then, you would understand– Arthur, 8/31/95,

rain it is so very hard to explain in life how every road touches our inner being, the twists and turns, the haunting memories, images, faces, the smell of the rain humid and thick just before the storm lets loose its fury, i remember when i was about thirteen years of age, huddled under an awning leaning against the doors of my elementary school, the rain came down in sheets and the wind blowing it almost sideways, the trees almost torn away, my friends, brother and i sat and watched, waiting for the worst to pass, these times are a richness within me-- Arthur, october 1996,

________________________________________________________________________________________ february

i should tell you something from my soul, i should let you see into my soul just a little bit, i should let you glimpse into the dark shadows that haunt me, i should let you see my ghosts, i should let you see my demons, i should let you see my misery, my anguish, my pain raw in the night, i should let you see me clutching and sobbing in my darkest hour, i should let you see me weaknesses, my vulnerable places, the injured wounded crippled parts of my soul, i should let you see those things, all of those things, all of those things that i hide from the world, that i hide from myself, Arthur, 2/4/97,

you will one day, you might one day, find that within your darkest hour, within your deepest hurt, is your greatest joy, your strongest will, your most sacred gift, know this, know this and these things, know thy self, know thy word, thy voice, know thine own magic, know them and live them, in the end, you must become them for the cycle to be broken, for the circle to be mended, for the phoenix to rise, Arthur, 2/4/97,

power and kindness, these are the things that rule the universe, these are the universal opposites that complement and complete each other, these are the embodiment of the universal principles that guide the progressions of the universe, these are the patterns of life and death and rebirth, these are the hardest to achieve, the hardest to understand and the hardest to wield, the life giving sword and the death giving sword are one, they move together and for the same intent, with the same intent, with one breath we speak, with one breath we live, and with one breath we awaken the eternal fire, Arthur, 2/9/97,

so much have i forgotten, the storm that has passed over me through me is gone, the remains of my life and being are all strewn about in its wake, i am slowly trying to remember and pick up the pieces of my life, the pieces of my soul, i once knew who i was, why i was here, what my mission was, is, who are you, i wonder what i have lost in the waters fury, i wonder if i could hear the wind again, i used to be able to sing in the night with a voice that touched the ages, a voice that was silent and still and kind and strong, i used to speak a spirit of gentleness, a loving kindness, i healed a child once with my eyes closed and my home filled with shadows, i was a man once, the earth spoke to me and now, now i am a man, Arthur, 2/9/97,

i enter the very sea of life, the waves of emotion, the buffeting against the walls that bear my most painful memories, i find myself in old arms again, in old days walking down old streets and i wonder, is my pain now because those days were wrought with such pain, or is the anguish today from a deep longing after loss, i think most profoundly it is both edges of this sword that have cut deep into my soul, but please tell me my long lost dear dear friend, please tell me, how might i be healed, Arthur, 2/22/97 - 1 am,

we must find the gentlest of touches to caress another's soul, we must learn to speak softly, kindly, with the greatest measure of care, we must look deep within our nature, we must look within the painful core, we must find that place where peace resides and we must speak from that place, it is only the heart and soul of who we are, Arthur, 2/22/97 - 2:25 am,

spark we must find our inner most selves, we must search and look, we must seek and discover, we must become, we must, we must unfold, we must awaken our true nature, our greater nature, we must learn the language of our soul, our spirit speaks thru us in every move and gesture we make, there are lines and pathways throughout our body, there are points of convergence, places and meetings, sparks that ignite us, pause and stillness, the breath of life, a gift to the world, a gift to our self, Arthur, 2/26/97 - 11:40 pm,

________________________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________ i am in such great pain, I don't have the words for it, god, this hurts, what would you have of me, shall i speak of the dark passing, shall i speak of her last words, or of the years that i have known her, shall i speak of all that passed between us, of the times of love and life and strife, shall i speak of her wounded spirit, her scars, the vindictive and spiteful acts, what would you have of me, there is a deep wound within my heart, a wound that i must one day heal if i am to love and trust again, if i am to love and trust with all my heart, Arthur, 1997,

________________________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________ 1998 ________________________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________

it is the exquisiteness, the fine lines, the crisp moments, it is the color of life, it is gentle immense powerful strength, all in a casual glance, it is the need for contact, the feel, the need to look inside, the evolving of the soul, the order of things, the human spirit, it is that which goes unsaid, it is the unknown, it is discovery, it is new beginnings, old endings, it is the edge and limit, the defining factor, pain, love, healing, what does it take, to know a man, what does it take, to know one's self, what does it take, to awaken a man, what does it take, to awaken one's self, Arthur, 6/27/98,

isnt there a sacredness of spirit that runs through your veins and speaks to you and sings to you and burns you and forges a way of life that marks your bones and builds within you a character and words, movements that have life and breath, the subtle look of fire and hunger in your eyes, what dreams do you dream in the darkness of the night, what dance do you dance when your world is all but shadow, what words do you speak in your deepest solitude, mine is life, Arthur, december 1998,

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