aristar

Every morning, half asleep, chronically running late I get into my car find something to listen to, always in contemplation of what the day will bring, stresses, things to look forward to, that the day might possibly go by quickly so I can get back home and do something with my life. Often in the morning, I remember bits of dreams things that ran through my mind the night before, strange abstract thoughts and memories of a different reality, sometimes even feeling as though I hopped from brain to brain exploring other peoples dream worlds. Im sure theres a science to it all that eventually will become common knowledge, but really.. What it comes down to is that the human brain is such an intricate structure of nerves, tissues, things I dont understand and cant claim to. Point being, who knows exactly how it all works, how dreams weave in and out, how reality and subconscious play into how we act and react.

I often wonder if insane people (or clinically insane people) are using more of their brains, have figured out something that I havent, or more realistically, just live in a world completely ruled by their damaged broken confused brains its hard to say. I like to believe that they are on to something, that maybe someday, my mental problems (or not so much problems maybe??) will turn into full-blown insanity and I will find my peace on this planet, and begin to use the other parts of my brain I become capable of using.

Ok that all sounds interesting enough but really then why do insane people rock back and forth, why do they do strange things and talk to the air and act as children, drooling, crying, screaming, scratching their skin off, why does The Sweeper Sweep? I mean.. None of it really makes sense.. I guess thats why they call it insanity. Right?!

So, driving to work, every morning, there is this tidy little house on my way in, nice yard, nice enough house, and every couple of days, the woman who lives there emerges from within and I see her all over the neighborhood sweeping, I dont mean, sweeping the driveway, the sidewalk, I mean Ive seen this woman sweeping under trees and bushes, sweeping in the middle of the street. I even saw her on the side of the highway sweeping Today I saw her in the middle of her street, sweeping a pile of gravel, I mean.. not a small pile, it looked like a truck spilled in the street I bet anything that tommorow, when I drive by The Sweepers house Ill see a very clean road. This woman is obviously living in another world, or has some sort of obsessive-compulsive disorder, who knows, Im sure, being that she has a nice home, someone is on to her sweeping habits and knows what the hell shes doing. My fascination with this woman started from the first day I saw her, every day since then when I see her, I wonder how she gets so motivated to do this sweeping thing so intently every day, every other day.. hell.. even once a week. Im willing to bet she spends hours doing this. The Sweeper leaves me with a feeling of longing, why arent I that obsessed with creating my art, why dont I just go insane (for lack of a better word) and start creating madly, on the side of the street, photographing piles of rocks creating for fear of not being able to breathe if I dont. when I drive by her house, and I dont see her.. I am genuinely disappointed. She really wakes me up in the morning.. insane or not. I think shes on to something. Maybe one day Ill go over there with my broom and sweep with her. Or perhaps just move in next door and forever be the spy of the sweeper.