Tomorrow

Today is tomorrow, the 20th of January. It is. Trust me.

Here is the text , the words, on yesterday's green coloured in egg box:

I know why I do it.

I thought it would take over an hour but it took less than 20 minutes. I coloured the bottom as well but not the inside. I did that because I terribly need to talk but have nothing to say. I mean that I don't want to talk about anything in particular. The want to talk becomes overwhelming and eventually collapses in to a meaningless action. Sometimes I go for a walk, sometimes I do the washing-up and sometimes I colour in an egg box. I have to say that this particular action was premeditated. I was having a good look at the box before throwing away, just to make sure it had to be thrown away, when I remembered the shade of green my usual egg boxes are. As I removed the label to give my imagination more field, I asked myself if I could imitate that green and as I had a green pencil at hand, between the butter and the milk, I gave it a try, just a bit of colouring in at one side. I liked it immediately and put the box aside. A few days later, I grabbed hold of my cherished 20 years old Faber and Castell emerald green Polychromos and I coloured the whole box. 

I didn't want to spend too much time on it  though because the ultimate goal I guess is to take a photograph of it in order to share the fun. Colouring in is a very primitive way of expression and while doing it I experienced the sensation of erasing or feeling some anger or sorrow and the meditative nature of this action took me to the realisation  that I never make anything that is beautiful to look at or when I do I feel that it is week and negligent. I mainly care for junk, rubbish, rotten things, about to disappear. By the time I finished to colour in, I understood that it is because I live not under the illusion that this world is flat ; I know there is always two side to a coin. I see light best when it is absorbed and not when reflected. I do not want to look in the mirror, I just want to talk.