TODO scan everything diagnol now.

so that you need to move YOUR head in order to get all that you can out of it. movement reciporocatd

.s :90ohms:

It is known and it is knowing to know change _is_, and is is change.
+ galgo as photon packet (or photon packet payload) greyhound bus as optic nerve.
+ backs of the mirrors as the other 3 walls in the room??
+ loust and found, call to action of filling it not only with
  nem's art, fill it with your art, so that the people who are
  so artless in their dishonesty while in the lost and found are rewarded
  for their greed.
+ invent a new poetry structure?
+ nem cant go inside any of the art rooms. hence why the moving pictures move for you but not for them. the trembling of a resentful artist
+ They call you the Gallery Goer. Where there're galleries, there you shall go.
  elaboration later on the artistic lens and redefine it to be
  where you go, there shall be galleries.
+ as galgo climbs down they see distortions of space, signifyi8ng subjectivity, or they conject that it is the effect of the artist's subjectivity. it IS because it is galgo's and the galgo is the artist
  to name is to call?? nay to name is to KILL
+ intermission is in sequence instructions/direct engagements with the senses..
  - intermission 1 picture
  - intermissin 2 video (picture time)
  - intermission 3 crunch sound repeated
  - intermission 4 music
  - 
+ art as grown natural entity in muesums like greenhouses, and the world a jungle of art
+ start on the stage with tree, entrance to museuo is back stage left, what was to be on the stage was a real funeral
+ lady macbeth once her hands were partially clean she that it was true and good that her pink hands were from dewey
  unfamiliar to theis world, a new one to her and hers for the newing
+ 6 wings and 1 head
+ after looking at the tree you see that the room is empty
+ you are you, you are gallery goer, we're building up the telescope of lens ontology
+ (this should be index.html)

1_a :process:structure:policy:3fn:

Approach of scene descriptions the world turned inside out.
like assume you're writing for/as an entity who has found themselves
in this space with all of the specificity of the character annihilated
and all of the knowledge of the world drawn in.
Then, once limned, you can add character color in after the fact. how do THEY see it? ykyk

1_b :writ:3fn:

I love night, i think because it gives reality to the
fable of the world turned inside out. when you were
not looking, or when you were looking, but not watching
the many corners of your eye for intruders, one snuck up,
and wielding the cunning of the moon patroned, brought
up the fabric of your pupil up like a magicians cloth
in bundles and knots and tossed it skyward until
all the world a sleep begot land with just you.
then smiling with the kindess of a friend they left you to your you.

1_c :3fn:

a body of work is a body too.

1_d

nem's ghost?? nem's anima, always somewhere SPECIFIC in the body, always
wandering around it, when they are at the eyes for instance its

1_e

at the eyes, you can discuss the art running in and out,

PPAALLAATTEE

visual symbol lexicon

a bird flying upwards :alchemy:

alchemical dogwhistle for sublimation

word colors, like (soon many) paints,

Palate Palette :art:

noun   The roof of the mouth in vertebrates having a complete or partial separation of the oral and nasal cavities and consisting of the hard palate and the soft palate.
noun Botany  The projecting part on the lower lip of a bilabiate corolla that closes the throat, as in a snapdragon.
noun   The sense of taste.
noun   The roof of the mouth and floor of the nose; the parts, collectively considered, which separate the oral from the nasal cavity.
noun   Taste; relish: from the idea that the palate is the organ of taste.
noun   The power of relishing mentally; intellectual taste.
noun   In botany, the projection of the lower lip of a personate corolla, more or less completely closing the throat, as in Linaria and Antirrhinum.
noun   In entomology, the epipharynx, a fleshy lobe beneath the labrum.
    To perceive by the taste; taste.
noun (Anat.)  The roof of the mouth.
Mark set [3 times]
Mark saved where search started
noun   A board, typically with a hole for the thumb, which an artist can hold while painting and on which colors are mixed.
noun   The range of colors used in a visual medium, in a picture, or by an artist.
noun   Any similar set of elements or qualities, such as musical notes, used in a medium, in a composition, or by an artist.
noun   A thin usually oval or oblong board or tablet with a hole for the thumb at one end, on which a painter lays his pigments when painting.
noun   The set of colors or pigments available for one class or character of work; the set of colors which a painter has on his palette when painting a picture: thus, in ceramics the under-glaze palette is much more limited than the over-glaze.
noun   In metal-working, a breastplate against which a person leans to furnish pressure for the hand-drill.
noun   In medicine: A light wooden spatula used for percussion in massage.
noun   A light splint for the hand.
noun   A small plate protecting the gusset of the armor.
noun   In entomology, a disk-shaped organ formed by three dilated tarsal joints which are closely united.

serrated :plant:

cerrated

pleonasm

alembic :alchemy:

retort :alchemy:

ebullient :alchemy:

pneuma

demiurge

pleroma :gnosticism:

elucidate

manner :polysemy:

physical piece paints, as to shape, perhaps like clay

Galgo (The Second Person) (You) (as in the second person, the witness)

+ the gallery goer
+ has a flashlight to explore the museaum

Y/N

You watch as Y/N murders nem in their apartment.
Y/N either stands for Your Name, or perhaps insanely
as
~~You're Nem??? maybe a bridge too far to mention specifically.~~
yea nah, thats sick but absfcknlutely not incorporating that textually.
unto You-r shadow?
this character SHOULD match you...ne and simultaneously the everyman

NE Merriam's Ghost

Ghost of NE Merriam

NE Merriam's Body, The Gallery/Museum

  noun   A building, place, or institution devoted to the acquisition, conservation, study, exhibition, and educational interpretation of objects having scientific, historical, or artistic value.
noun   A building or part of a building appropriated as a repository of things that have an immediate relation to literature, art, or science; especially and usually, a collection of objects in natural history, or of antiquities or curiosities.
noun   A repository or a collection of natural, scientific, or literary curiosities, or of works of art.
noun (Zoöl.)  See Anthrenus.
noun   A building or institution dedicated to the acquisition, conservation, study, exhibition, and educational interpretation of objects having scientific, historical, cultural or artistic value.
noun   a depository for collecting and displaying objects having scientific or historical or artistic value
Mark set
Quit

Playing TOol Belt

comovements :tool:

assign 26 pieces a letter for a page, WITH the assignment of a cardinal music note

humor in general, like humor :tool:

like weeping ghnem is like how much ontology you want lol

puns.

play! playful
play on words.

cardinal directions

double meaning phrases

move against

like attack/provoke politically/militarily
but also its like, vaguely suggestive~

syntax patterns

voice/style/tone switches

multiple answers for unimportant

multiple answers for important

inserting definitions of words, with planted fake definitions :)

mis spell words, neologisms obviously

homophones

dog drink bog kinda shit

TO SUBVERT YOU MUST SET UP EXPE@TATION

play

You(galgo) watches as Y/N murders nem in their apartment.

zip of entire website found in nemapt

if a corridor/between wing has an image, the name of the image should canonicaly be the entirety of the text of the page it appears on

By divorcing Y/N from You, we can jubiountly, jubiously, jubiountly assert that You, the reader are or can be EXACTLY the artistic lensu

you see a pit band

you put on the pit band and the hole is known to your surface, to your dermiskin

is galgo a centipede? a house centipede? a silver fish? an eidolone, thought made fish?/autopoisson(f~~le~~(i)sh)

the individual as the crowd

file size

what MORE is lost, all this size here but infine lost

metaphores

clay firing ==> claymation desolation ==> clay furnace firing
quite the useful corpse

equivalences

hair = plants

stain glass lens worked out literally beyond perfectly

the mouth of the little guy became a blazing eye of a knowing face from the scanners perspective.
should use text_to_song.py and assign an image taken from the camera for each note

a dossent as to a gallows calibrator

to hang art is to hang 
(submarine) submarine remove (remove) art until dead
as gallery to the gallows
imagery of you and the art changeing
and pupating, growing cocoon wise together
in the shcordinger box with the cat
because when it is shared you see it through their eyes for
what it is instead of what it might be
and after all they have done,
as if it wasn't enough,
if the world, with their eyes,
cut off your writing hand
write with the one that is left
the recipecortive change snuffed out and it is
changed so that people steal it, but it actually
doesn't
\putting art into the world/ 

structure

+ tree intro?
+ establish the concept of changing what can be observed as creation, distinct from artistry

prewing1

+ bus?

wing1

+ a lot of actual acted out things.
+ footwork establishing what art is to the creator(?)
the silent rapture.
the eye exit the mother tongue
gimp paintings beste of(?)
SHOULD suicide be allowed as explored topic here, yeah i think so.

postwing1

wing2

runt wing,
more insane
still gimp paintings and gimp paintings only(?)

postwing2

Ask them to draw a self portrait that they must make sure only they ever see.
they will continue the journey with them by their side.
+ tell them to leave a large amount of the canvas blank

wing3

postwing3

and so you start to see whispers now of wind
blowing the sands of thought, and sand
withit the winds ratiocinative, cast in visible spectra
by the shadow and rigormortis of the body you walk through now
wholly shod

wing4

postwing4

transition to first person?

wing5

nem printing out all the stuff 

postwing5

nem walking home

picture of a camera in the mirro

wing6

inside the apartment
nems naked body, cowering over the
unfinished canvas.
the next time the brush hits the canvas,
itll be with their eyes over you.
not dead
blank wall
funeral for a funeral (funeral for the orginal intent)
__
in the warm darkness you have the freedom to be a hypocrite.
you have made art even if you did not create the self portrait.
what makes something art?

macromovements

as wing # go up

plants mentioned get wilder + closer to equator

fever, heat etc

titles go to untitled

.

wing # --> stages of grief

if nem is also there, they should be moonwalking the stages of grief. as they reach denial gallery goer is able to follow them into their apartment.
they perhaps are lead by a jackie like figure?
and then Y/N is in there.. Yes,, Yes this
would make sense as an apotheosis of the whole each painting has a room, death on sharing etc, since basically
the tour of the apt is literally them breaking the seal, and exploring if they want to inhabit the artistic space
as nem had.

text

prewing1

1

You Shield your eyes from the sun and gaze up at the oracle of conveyance that delivered you .(to this place).
Grey bus Greyhound(gray): A ways up sure, but still close enough to see it's full underside idling in open air.
maze-knot mechanical guts knotted and gnarled and stained. And Anointed, now, with the hot space warping exhalation
cloud of its own exhaust.
(The journey of a thousand(thousand) starts with a dry bloody nose.)
it looks proud of you from here, and somehow satisfied.
For overcoming the physical challenge of bringing you here,
but there's seems there's something else to its satisfaction too.
bringing you here it also was able to be part of your story, and smiling now it
dawns that it is also proud of itself for that too. of you you think.
From here you can see the visored path up to the entrance, to your destination. on the stone
you are before you enter through the door to the house. sand blows too. and so too in its blowing
it is blown to and fro.
Despite the parched desert heat tears shine in your eyes.

2

a

you look back over your shoulder in time to see the bus bleed its stillness into the sky,
getting smaller and smaller, trading with the atmosphere gentlemen and the rules gentlemen.

b

you look back over your shoulder in time to catch,
the bus bleed its stillness 
-into you
-into the sky, stillness being a hot blood of blue
getting smaller and smaller, trading with the atmosphere gentlemen and the rules gentlemen.

3

brokered a deal with the atmosphere to trade closeness to you for blueness and newness.
it trades bigness for blueness with
shrinking into the atmosphere
 :hdr:

wing1

0

you get a sense of many-winged multitudiny

1

Please excuse the contrivance, for will you perform with me?
On this beaconstage always calling us silently, answered withwhen one is
ready to hear the bell peeling twilight's patience and hues into the quiet
night.
I'll make you a deal. You perform with me here at twilight, and i'll let you
off the hook on the second half. No performing necessary.

2c

Inside the dome masonrie your approach carried you towards standing in a large, high ceilingued chamber,
with a fountain coming up through the relief in the center. The fountain was perhaps
nine times your height, tiered, and everywhere on it were carvings of different plants.
It also, is bone dry, and water stained with rings like laurels draped on anything
remotely piquing
the multitude surface stained, staring manifold uncoaster bloated and breathing nomore.
Now sand has taken home here. there is after all, a gape in the ceiling.
white soot cataracts now are all this fountain is.
The roof of this domed building is quite dark, black, surrounded by gargoyles.
You think that perhaps you were too hasty getting down here.

3

You walk along the sandstone catwalk, wondering how might sandstone not within an hours time be dragged back into the desert void.
You, not for a _particular_ need for balance or rest. Perhaps on a whim of weakness, perhaps on a whim purely whim. You smile in the sun. You stay there not long enough for the elements to sap any felt amount of your health. You stand up breathing out, do you feel physical pain in doing so? You can answer out loud. You continue walking, looking out over the edge of one side the catwalk -- for the other side is ostensibly a garden's high wall, based on the aqueduct indentations rhythming the top.
You roll your eyes at the aqueducts, but feel bad for it a moment after. What?
Your eyes unfocused for a while there, but yes, looking out over the left side of the catwalk, you can see what looks like at least two huge wings to this building. 90 degrees splayed out from eachother, least wings.
you draw (hither) upon a large domed structure. odd. the dome itself looks like it was painted black, but most of that has peeled away revealing an ochre white streaked with wet red, unlike most of the bricks here with gargoyles flanking it on every side, each bearing a weapon.
there is also a hole, into which you can see down into it, your entrance, the first room
of the house many winged
so much for hermetic.
Down into the museummanywinged 

4

(... Your long walk along the wall ends abruptly as you turn the corner. You see)

5

postwing1

(splendant puffy eyes shine)

in house sargasotoreum

And 12 hours in a halfday as 12 shining sides of the wing world over. and turned over.

every piece of art a space..

 every piece of art a space,
 a room with the head of the creator mounted on the wall,
 and the head of the artist on your shoulders

You have grown weary and malnourished in this world :;

	Can you measure what? Can one what be bigger than a second what?
	There's an inscription here.
	"...what drives us then, to soul claying, to the soul cloying clay
	mold transformation of form transformation that is art apprehension?
	The note a soul plays as the bow of an art piece glides over it:
	to behold an ode is to become an ode yourself, an ode to the ode,
	to read poetry is to write a poem about the poem, in that higher lanuage
	that is dancing hand motor lake of the mind.
	to behold a painting is to become a painting yourself.
	mirror neurons coruscating. you now here a funeral of a funeral
	of a funeral.

possibly mist

no chnace itll actually be needed but ~/today_ol has been moved to 2 tb /dev/sdc1
 bash
  sudo mount /dev/sdc1 ~/mnt
usbipd bind --busid 2-6
usbipd attach --wsl --busid 2-6
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wheel

acceptance

nem beams and nem's ghost announces that they are dead

nem solilo quoy #x (2?) (depression coded)

Again, the apparition makes language to emit from theym,
                                                  their
						  ghostly contenance buried in balled hoary hands
a surface like mold made thinning. spread out like a spread on a bread piece toasted and cracked
from the pressure and the spread coldness.
Biological Incompatibility.
--Ontological Immaturity.
--Existential Incapability.
"Even in death i am bound to this roil and roll,
churning in an anatomy so sufficatingly familiar as
to banish joy from my being forever.. to be human is
to be no longer. I hate it, I HATE IT, I FUCKING HATE IT.
I AM SO FILLED WITH DREAD SO UNPREDICTABLY,
(SO byzantine
the detractors, my own agents,
my own lilith, my own eve,
my own adam and eve and steve.
my very own twilight hours.
from my dried up well of joy)
so unfollowable the parentheticals i shed like filmy eye skins
forever made to molting by the eyes crowding my sockets to burst.
but oh, how much _sweeter_ it is, in
its misfit impossibility:
the joy of a Monad Giardiniera that beckons to eclipse me.
and how much higher still the world soars when that giardiniraeclipse
reveals its full unhand masterplot, brandishing nonhuman effectors
tight around the base of the human weed uprooting me into effervescent unhumanity
waxen insanity the truest taste of freedom.
when that final piece corusclides from somewhere so bizarre, so alien indeed,
that in arriving it cannotnot arrive with a blanket of confusion all-enshroud
to cast upon the space.
And there it is. This shroud thrown:
_THE_.
_EXALTED_.
_STATE_..: Confusion.
  noun   The act of confusing or the state of being confused.
  noun   An instance of being confused.
  noun Psychology  Impaired orientation with respect to time, place, or person; a disturbed mental state.
  noun   The act of confusing or mingling together two or more things or notions properly separate; the act or
process of becoming confused or thrown together in disorder, so as to conceal or obliterate original differences, etc.
  noun   The state of being confused or mixed together, literally or figuratively; an indiscriminate or disorderly mingling; disorder; tumultuous condition: as, the confusion of the crowd.
  noun   The state of having confused or indistinct ideas; lack of clearness of thought.
  noun   Perturbation of mind; embarrassment; abashment; trouble; distraction.
  noun   Overthrow; destruction; ruin.
  noun   One who confuses; a confounder; a troubler.
  noun   In civil law, merger of two titles in the same person.
preposition The tangled tangler, content with what change may come as they while away the hours of summer night, solveing themselves, a labyrinth through time steeped now in cicadaes
  Mark set [3 times]
  Thrumming confusion NOT promised to
  make sense. And indeed all the sweeter when the puzzle retains
  vaporousity
  noun   The gaseous state of a substance that is liquid or solid at room temperature.
  noun   A faintly visible suspension of fine particles of matter in the air, as mist, fumes, or smoke.
  noun   A mixture of fine droplets of a substance and air, as the fuel mixture of an internal-combustion engine.
  noun   Something insubstantial, worthless, or fleeting.
  noun   A fantastic or foolish idea.
  noun   Exhalations within a bodily organ, especially the stomach, supposed to affect the mental or physical condition. Used with the.
  noun   A nervous disorder such as depression or hysteria. Used with the.
  intransitive verb   To fill or cover with vapor.
  intransitive verb   To vaporize.
  intransitive verb   To give off vapor.
All opaque.
is both its origin and itself
to summon confusion 
transcendantly
linear in its strange, singular fitting? (penultimate soliloquoy)
i thought in death that i would be untethered and unstrung. why then am i here, why does the world continue
to delight in bearing _torment_ waves  down
"
when my
staring is mounting, 
a piece "
tears flow resolute through the cracks in their trembling spetralanges
their hair..

.fo

.am

.en

.nt

.ing ga

epigo and concluje or un ;)

What delight there is to be found even at looking at something not confusing and
finding the confusion to be found.
The Celestial Spheres guiding each and every clock on the geosurface, cast off
and heaven-pierced once you see it for the blanket of divine confusion, impish
in its camoflague and ubiquitous in its hiding, in all spaces of all vocations,
so long as one has the curiousity to bear.
and to bear witness.
The best thing about the world, is the big picture is _always_ so, so much bigger
than a score of afternoons spent in ode to ponderance can try to swallow.
A (defun scoreval ('the-mind-scionic)
  (if (eq the-mind-scionic 1))  
  (ret (scoreval (+ the-mind-scionic 1))
  (if (neq the-mind-scionic 1)
   ret ( (scoreval (* 'the-mind-scionic (scoreval (* 'the-mind-scionic 9) )))
  )
  )
  )
  )
Or too, to come to a vantage with duplicity, to bring the weight of the
life described by the human You-Y/N's, to seek out allegory in something
to serve as a cerrate to our soul. it is nothing short of art.

html dev text runoff/graveyard :sargasoreum:

immediately usable perhaps

.ag

You love cereal in a bowl eaten with anything.
	Any instrument, even your hands.
	_Especially_ your hands. Brought ajourney and back and ajourney and back again.
	(In the quiet dark fume hood floweressence halogen bulbs bloom. A sun for the
	other side.)
	in contemplative rhythm. You are an artist in this, and in everything.
	I love you.
	You are not sane.
	back and forth,
	dripping with the medium you
all this text is randomly generated

.ar

	You blink.
	and make each your hands to rub itself, churning the your-palm in its own oily texture, the fingers following in tow.
	You came here for a specific reason but you can't remember it.
	You don't think this will be a big deal.

.na

It has a
	dark green somewhat plastic body and a pitch black head cylinder, untapering
	up into it's crown-lumie, which at your will,
	pours plentiful forth,

.mes in the dark

something something foreshadowing you wear things (things you wear):
- the mantle of the artist, which is to say the mantle of the witness, the gallery goer
something something you to You (galgo) You to nem, by the end comparable to mind to brain, brain to body
you are wearing You (Gallery Goer) who dawns the body of nem, wearing that too the artist (as a) mantle.
	
You!

otherwise

orgsargaso HTML graveyard