Curating: Magic (with Stop motion)

Can you here the sound of the gypsy’s in the street?

can you feel the heat of their torches at they light the effigies?

Can you feel the heat of the future as they burn it down around you?

Let us dance

Lets us dance

let us sing and laugh and die in the name of the sky and blood and cocks and balls and vaginae

all the things that make being alive feel like black magic

Let the bears out of the zoos

they’ve always made the best DJs

they always rub raw the tracks with talons and tones that tear the beat

of the bear hitting the small sources of sound

swallowing the path as they create it

but not that’s not the bear

but the bare hand of God’s touch

It burns, setting the forests on fire and lighting the sky

leading the gypsys home

not theirs

not yours

not mine

but home.

 

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