Post 28: Just some things from today

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I’ve been a little bogged down by all of the everything that is right now. Bogged down in the sense of somehow having to figure anew how it is that I take place (the present moment seems to require a lot of reevaluation), and how I can continue to take place in the midst of, alongside of, and in opposition to the ruptures and sludges of it. I could describe “it,” though I truly think the pronoun speaks for itself, and in a way stands for and describes this moment's own confines by remaining only as “it.” Anyway, I’ve been kind of inundated (or something) in feeling the impossibility of articulating all that I take in (in a day, for instance)--facts, thoughts, ideas, sights (some mine, but mostly others’)--and find myself walking around with all this undigested stuff (I’d like to put a heavy emphasis on the static sound of the word “stuff”) in me. I can feel the unusable excess in myself.

I have often felt that there is an act of weaving that needs to be done to bring my personal making-related thinking, seeing, and processing into understanding with…I never really know what the other end of this is aside from: everything else. (Though, why make categories of our lives?) It’s both because of my desire for things to be woven, and because I think there’s a way that “everything else” is only seemingly a non-making category. (As in: Could non-making really be a category for me if making is always something that will be existing in relation to it?) I guess I'm just thinking about all of the things I take in and how these exist in me, and what I make, and how this too starts as something existing in me. I'm reminded of these few lines from an essay called "The Marionette Theater": "The umbrella teases. It opens. Then folds back on itself. Really, it's two umbrellas. Yet it's one. A villager would have to have two minds to grasp this" (Silk 1999, 73).


So, because of this feeling of being unsorted, and the inherently-persisting desire I have to take what is in me (what comes into me, what I come across) and place it outside of me after it has been transformed from being in me, I’m simply sharing a couple of moments from my today. In a funny way, I think this is the most diary-like post of any post I’ve made, maybe largely just in my feeling about it. Which seems fitting–the thought of something being shared into or out of a diary softens the rigid ideas of input and output that I've been associating with things. The lean toward diary is flimsier than those words in a way that feels good. In addition, I seem to have been firming up one speed of my blog posts (maybe I’d call it the speed of “single thought that then gets thought about a bit longer") and I’d like to bring in the freedom of having a variety of speeds. Hence:


The edge of green and the beginning of blue. (I didn't notice it when I took this picture, but I think there's a tiny sliver of moon in here.)

Smiling sashimi being spotlit.

This looks very tiny in the photo, but I think it was vulture? (One thing I have learned in my lifetime is that not very big things look very tiny from far away.)

I saw this really cool wall painting while on the train. I have been enjoying referring to everything I see as a painting without any hesitation. This one must be pretty new because I've never seen it before and I usually keep my eyes peeled at this point on my train ride because it's often a fruitful spot.

Also this cool painting! Although this one doesn't translate as well into a photo. What made it a winner for me are the elements that are probably least seeable here--the small drawings in the dark green rectangle. (I'm thinking of the painting only as the shape made by the greens.)

Can you seen this kid's poem!? (Probably not since this is a photo of a projected slide.) "You eat sweet oranges/ And you get a German Shepherd/ The sky is rising and you see the sun/ A bag of Doritos" @citation_needed_press



Bibliography: 

Silk, Dennis. 1999. "The Marionette Theatre". Contemporary Theatre Review 10(1): 73-83.

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