Wall 44: Irish

Today is that day we are all talking about.  Right?  Last year I made the mistake of being in Milwaukee to see Of Montreal.  There were drunks walking in the middle of the street.  Wobbling about, screaming.  Okay, maybe it was not a mistake.  

But I would say that if I had to boil down the quintessence of Irishicity, it would look like this.  [Note the void]

Get some sunshine, if you dare.  Or, if you beg enough, I’ll make an artificial sun.  

Baby, don’t fly too close.  You can blame it all on me. 

(Swiffer?)

(Twilight by Stephanie Meyer?)

nevermind!

Wall 13: Origin

I hadn’t planned anything special here at 365 to celebrate a holiday I consider unneccesary.  Shouldn’t everyone (read: men) love their woman beyond expectation, each and every day?  Every day I spend with Meg is special.

So anyway, this wall was an accident, and turned into something meaningful.  The gestalt lines arcing down form more than each alone.  This wall is eerily close to my own definition of love.  Together, as mentioned, the lines form something greater, and still they remain individual and infinite.

Meg, since the moment we met, I haven’t lived a second that did not belong to you.