I am not sure, when or where I first read "Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright"

But William Blake's abstract, old poetry effected me very deeply when I first read his work.

He sang a lot, and gave out most of his paintings for free.

He would paint God, Angels, the heavens, and Man's union with the divine.

On his deathbed, it is said he was both laughing and singing.

He died pretty young, sixty-something, if I were to remember right.

He was a christlike, and religious man.

As he stared into his own black eye-lids, seeing only black beyond them, I communicated with him on his deathbed.

What "Marilyn Manson" calls "Hotel Art" -- I laid the eyes of William Blake on one of my abstract paintings.

A swirl design.

And he died, while staring at the astral image of my painting.

I am close to him, because I am His reincarnation.

Like I am Michelangelo.

Like I am Alexander Pope.

Like I am Edgar Allan Poe.

All reflections, of the artistic power in one another,

And one of the reasons why Blake died so peacefully, is because he was euthanized by his Future Self, and the work he would some day make in the future.


-BLS