i am possessive when it comes to my fascination towards and ownership (!) of approximately 15 artists — writers, visual artists and singers — to the point that i don’t mention their names when i write about them here. i’m not sure why. maybe it’s because they reflect facets of myself or some segments of my history that specificying them would be too revealing. or maybe it’s a way of protecting them from posers and more posers. i feel sanctified because of these artists’s creations, and when there’s a lukewarm poser lurking, it just makes me bare my darkling soul’s teeth. grr. yes, grr.
i was hit by this urge to dance while commercial was on for an episode of SYTYCD. i was listening to a song of one of my hallowed artists, and i ended up doing some moves a la contemporary (i’m sure a very poor version. a poser, then? heh). i was so into it that i.felt.goosebumps.riddling.my.arms.
sanctified for a minute. priceless.