Sunday, May 4, 2014


I think there's a special kind of visual largeness, a unique sense of condensed mass reserved for the larger men of Central Asian descent.
Could it be the colors our bodies wear, that meaty washed out brown sitting next to dark eyes and lips and night-black hair.
We grow larger again, sitting inside the tents of our large billowy jubahs, linen cloth to crease and add lines and definition to this unseemly mass. 
Hair, hair could be the cause. Curly, omnipresent, indomitable, always either too short or a raging growth of indecipherable locks.
Tangled shrubs of arm and back hairs add to that i think, extending, growing the edge of our silhouettes so that we may stand larger than we are.

Could it be that lumbering, swaying gait of a man walking off a heaily spiced meal ?

Maybe it's skin after all, not the color, but the texture.
Slathered in coconut oil perfume, rose water or sweat from the humid asian air.
That shine, that slightly awkward wetness may be that last little something that completes this picture, this image, this reflection, this moment of being obsessed with aesthetic massiveness.

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