The Artwork of Travis Trium Perfectum
Today is my birthday and I always have a strong feeling towards self-reflection on this date. I know this year will be a very special one for me. I always say that art is just capturing fleeting moments and this year I will be capturing a moment that has eluded me. I have wanted and...
"I was told to wait until the world spoke of me like I no longer exist. My view from purgatory of the world's eager wrist." Look up, look up, but down to see me. A reflection of the time that was, a time I didn't want to be. Existence was a burden, one that I burned down. I once wrote of a moon, one that didn't exist until now. The day is coming, but I won't show my face until the night. That certain moon will mark a final shape, one that the world cannot fight. I'm tired of watching......
"I'll make you tremble as you try to whisper to me close. Give me all of your truths so I can run my tongue along your woes." Tremble, tremble then I'll disassemble. I know you take pride in never coming apart, but tonight I'll rip your pieces to the floor and I'll read them aloud. I'll wait for you to beg to stay close like a wave to the shore. The mirrors surrounding us to watch The Devil leave your body and then enter again. Always knocking three times just to make you open the door for him. You know......
"Like a constant ache that never goes away. Mannequin hands folded up showing you how to pray. Your hands clutched tightly around god's infinite mistakes. He didn't give you life. You created your restraints. Fuck the life into you so it's mine to take." Dead hands with dead eyes, empty prayers polluting the skies. The artist may be the most dangerous of all to god. A true creator of worlds and the ultimate enemy to oppression. We're all born with chains, but how you break them should become an obsession. It's like a constant ache that never goes away. Fingernails......
"I love leaning up against time, but is this your blood or mine? I want you to lean upon your crimson, soak it up and start again. When will this ever be enough? Learn to devour without throwing up. This world is tainted and hard to ingest. You throw up from your mouth, I throw up from my chest." My chest opens wide through my ribcaged-teeth, this is where I reside. The world feeds me shit I try to forget, throw up just to stay alive. I'm not sure why I fight, to stay alive I mean. I have moments......
"My days are numbered now, but never counted down. The symbolism is exposed, but still no one knows. My blistered fingers wrapped around a pen where emotion lingers. Word by fucking word, I smash them into sculptures. May 23rd, May 23rd." I can only you hope you welcome me back with open arms, the way I would you with a cold embrace. My lips sealed for too long, now they're longing for the taste. Counter-clockwise, my thoughts circle to me. Opening up my mind and it's almost time for the world to see. These are my miseries to show, my......
As I look at myself closely, I see exhaustion. Not the exhaustion that I hate, but the kind that I respect. My ideas, thoughts and emotions are dictating to me what is expected and that can always be an overwhelming experience. I stare at my lips and see evidence of the poisonous remnants of the...
"Tonight I finally felt free. Letting go of the potential I painted you with and unlacing fingers with a memory." I'll let this writing be a memorial. I kept time from eating our moment, from eating a feeling I wanted to preserve. I've been crawling away from this place, this suffering, but tonight is the last night I'll stay. I know I will look back only to observe time devour and feed on what I protected for so long. My heart is dangerous and contagious with the passion it exudes and now I see I gave too much of that......
“My words are dangerous. Not just to me, not just to the way you think, but to conventions that don’t deserve to stand if words can make them break.” My words are dangerous. Not just to me, not just to the way you think, but to conventions that don’t deserve to stand if words can...
"This dying flower only feels alive by getting hurt. Your soiled dress hugs your body and it's evident you're dying of thirst. Your fingers coil like petals betraying the sun and you know the only way the plot can thicken is by adding dirt." Cry and you'll drink, cry and you'll drink. I remember saying this to your melting face. I know what you wanted and you knew it too. I slapped your petals away from your outreach, I'm not your sun, I'm more like bleach. I'll take all your beautiful colors away, but drink me and I'll give you......
