greengrass

trevor

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Illumination by greengrass, literature

Literature

Illumination

You opened up the sky and then the sun lit up our face But I could only sigh and see the day's descending grace. I watched you walk beside me there with stars upon your brow And though you could not hide me there, you still might show me how To write a story on the ground a thousand letters long, And then when we were finished there, we might call it our song. And still we walked 'neath lantern skies, my hand praying for yours As waves withdrew and left us there, together on the shores Of what we know and what we loved, facing future days Knowing we would walk the earth by many different ways. So I listened to you breathing there an

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The cqais the limit by greengrass, literature

Literature

The cqais the limit

They made him a crib... It was a plain crib, made by his father\'s plain hands It didn\'t quite fit his urbanite setting His father, George... And his mother Harriet... Were touching in their normality The fire of their love could be compared to a bowl of soup, In that it warmed you at first taste... But it soon grew cold and inedible To continue the metaphor, his birth had an effect similar to putting the bowl in the microwave by simultaneously renewing it and making it stale George and Harriet continued to live their lives, neither changed much, and they loved their child He grew from a baby into a boy, and learned about th

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At Night by greengrass, literature

Literature

At Night

I fight toy soldiers in the dead of the night with my hands and my eyes and my lungs. Their bayonettes are blunt and brunette with pale flesh; their battle cries are mantric and make no sense to me. Quite often, I am tempted to bowl them over with logic. Their bodies (which are of pine-wood, not tin) burn so brightly that my eyes turn upward to the darkened sky, where I can see the faces of my grandparents. Their frowning, conservative mugs rest in the wind, for they were once soldiers themselves. All I can do is smile, because they know my role is as necessary as theirs. Often, though, we are all of us captivated by the delicacy of the ve

At Night

greengrass

About greengrass

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Artist

Deviant for 21 years
He / Him

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My Bio

Current Residence: Michigan
Favourite photographer: Centa
Personal Quote: "I have no desire to walk on water."

Favourite Visual Artist

dave mckean, gustav klimt

Favourite Movies

the royal tenenbaums, Wonder Boys

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

David Bowie, Leonard Cohen

Favourite Writers

douglas adams, kurt vonnegut

Tools of the Trade

a variety of pens, a wandering mind

Other Interests

you, me

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greengrass

Oct 13, 2005

The Beginning of Doves

0 min read

I think self portraits are a really good idea. I need to get back into drawing. Also, there are two new photos of paintings in scraps.

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greengrass

Aug 27, 2005

Posting- Starting School

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Well, that's most of the worthwhile stuff from the summer - I have some other things less recent yet to be posted, but those will come in time. It's not an astonishing body of work, but it means alot to me. And getting it up has been cleansing - I can start thinking about making new stuff again. Nothing appears very poetic to me anymore, but that's probably because I'm getting used to living on pavement again. I start school on monday at 11:00. I have no classes after 12:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Must go, the computer makes me sick. --- P.S. Turn It On by the Flaming Lips makes me glad to be an American.

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greengrass

Jul 28, 2005

Don't let go of my hand

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Now the darkness is gone And this will be our year Took a long time to come. In approximately 2.5 weeks, I will be home, and shortly thereafter I will be able to post my work for the summer. Not an astonishingly large body of creation, but some of it I'm very proud of.