We Are

November 27, 2018 Carl Barnett

Who are we if not contrasts, contradictions and beauty.

Meaning and purpose.

Will and hope.

CB 11/27/18

Lay It Out

November 22, 2018 Carl Barnett

Who are we if not contrasts, contradictions and beauty. Who am I beyond body and mind? And you? Remind me. Show me. Better yet, tell. The story we tell is written around us. Plays itself out in actuality.

What I have to say for myself you can see. I wear it on my skin. Drink from it. Keep it near, intimate. Nonchalant gatherings of life. Inspired vignettes. Journals. Chosen choice words I share, guarded, honest but limited. We say volumes by what we don’t, instinctively.

Who am I but my doing. Stories told in what I create. Spaces layered in hope, informed by inspiration. Desire and need. What the future holds the past has guided. And of now? Who are we now but the future’s holdings. What we say echoes. What we build, arches. Forward.

Lay it all out, you’ll see it before you. Build it as cathedral. Glass house. Who we are but walls and windows. Skin and bones. Gatherers.

Who we were. Who we are. Where we’re going.

CB 11/22/18

A Pull

November 17, 2018 Carl Barnett

A deeper sense of something. Lately I find a greater pull to a feeling I can’t put a name to. To call it a yearning would give it too much clarity. It is both a drawing and a lack. The thought that to gain something one must lose something. A moving away. A sliding forward.

But none of this really explains. Words cannot truly describe a feeling, especially if that feeling charades itself as chameleon. A camouflaging to deflect from change.

I’m not sure how to write this, but have the need to write it out. Make sense with words. Sometimes even punctuation brings life to a thought and lets emotion breathe more rhythmic. Move as heartbeat.

All I know, to be honest is there is this need. A pull to create. A whispered desire. Boiling bubble, rising to the top.

CB 11/17/18

Home

November 15, 2018 Carl Barnett

I often relish my time at home for the silence and security, the focused attention on who I am and where I am in this world. A time to narrow down on what I’m doing and giving. Dissecting and creating.

It is this emotion that I try to convey when creating spaces. An oasis of solitude. Layers of the hand created, time, texture, histories and stories. Calm within an inspiring shell of white.

Our living spaces are vessels of memoirs and utilitarian tools that guide us from the past into the future. They are virtual maps that allow us to wander back and forth through time, creating and deleting as we move forward. Build forward. Our homes allow us pause in an ever increasing world of access and demand. A flux of micro and macro.

Within our built environments we are replenished. Our stories re-written as we slip into slumber. We are reassured and sometimes redirected as we sit in silence, delve into calm and allow ourselves to enjoy our place in this world. Our selves created. Selves inspired.

CB 11/15/18

November 4, 2018 Carl Barnett

Emotion is the intuitive compass. It informs our words, sparks our actions and burns the thread of hope. It is what moves us forward and drives us downward. Words cannot fully express what emotion the hand desires to mimic. Toil as we do, emotion is never fully expressed outside the self, best understood within.

It is through trial and error that change comes, that the future manifests, vaguely, eventually. A process of emotion, mind and doing. Thinking push and then, pushing. It is the language of love and touch, desire and need that the future is based upon. What the future nurtures.

The future cannot be realized through linear resolve or pragmatic mapping. It’s all in the muck of the self, mind of the maker, spark in the eye. Change is born in the body, created in time. Hope is what lingers after will makes its move. Forward thought. Forward action.

CB 11/03/18