Wanted: a needle swift enough to sew this poem into a blanket.
I slept little, read a lot, and fell in love frequently.
Only poetry can measure the distance between ourselves and the Other.
Inside my empty bottle I was constructing a lighthouse while all others were making ships.
Found objects, chance creations, ready-mades (mass-produced items promoted into art objects, such as Duchamp's "Fountain"-urinal as sculpture) abolish the separation between art and life. The commonplace is miraculous if rightly seen.
When people ask me how to find happiness in life I tell them, First learn how to cook.