Weird Science

 

 

In less than 24 hours a helping of the Midwest will be scooped up and weighted down next to me. My sleep shifts so significantly in the presence of said scoop: Like a satisfying last puzzle piece locking into place.

Insert an image, here, of an analog paper map with all of its pen-drawn circles and highlighted routes: Something between a blueprint and Frankenstein's stitches. There is the electricity of sleeplessness and anticipation of all the good reasons to stay awake. 

 

be well; be loved,

 

k.  

 

[P.S. One of the art exhibits I have thought about the most in the past year and some has been Business, Pleasure, Pressure, Release by Nick Doyle.  There is a sterile, measured, official description of it here .  However, I encourage you to look for short video footage of the other video invitations and tagged photos from the actual opening parties on Instagram or other outlets (@nickdoyle333 or @human_resources._ ). 

There is one video of a woman with thick red lipstick locked within the bar that is shown in the aboved-linked video. While locked within it, a black stiletto filled with champagne is brought towards her face and is poured from the stiletto directly into her mouth, which she drinks without being able to touch the stiletto to steady it. It is just spectacular in the image and concept.]

 

[image credit: Raymond Woolhead] 

A/Second/Hand

I.

I've always wanted to know what it would be like to go camping with you.  Not because I like camping. I fucking hate it, generally speaking. I spent most of my childhood outside and roaming around and being cold. No, I've always wanted to know because I bet you'd be good at it. I bet you'd be really organized with your camping gear, and know how to start a fire in some weirdly impressive way.

II.
Today was long but good. I worked a lot. Made a presentation to my department. Wrote a paper to get it out of the way (one down; one to go).  For that paper, I had to read a lot of academic journal articles having to do with social vs medical models of psychiatric care. The readings we had to go over for class had a lot of current research having to do with suicide.  It is a strange week to be diving so deeply into this topic. But you know how it is. The universe has a strange way of linking separation.

III.

I celebrated finishing the paper by skipping the early birthday party I am supposed to be at right now and, instead, heading home to put on sweatpants, eat a frozen pizza, and wash my face with warm water. My feet feel good being out of their shoes; my back feels good stretching the length of the bed. I'm listening to the dragging sound of the analog clock in my room and it reminds me that, with some things, it is just a matter of necessary time.



be well; be loved,

k.

(image: Erimo Cape, from The Solitude of Ravens, 1976, Masahisa Fukase)

Sandman and the Rudders of the Ship

Last night I had the dream that I needed to. It will never not amaze me how the human mind and subconscious can point you to the exact people and actions that need to transpire. It is both shocking and certain how entire the feeling is once you are given a necessary direction. It can be strange to wake up with a determination in your heart that wasn't there when you fell asleep, but it can also be incredible to feel like a clue in a fancy yet sooty envelope has been slipped to you by a gloved hand while you sleep.

For now, it will be me and activism and books and friendships and probably hiding under my bed for hours from time to time.

It is my blueprint and necessity.

(pause)

Related and unrelated, I do have this self centered thing to say because this bullshit winked its asshole eye at me this morning:

Now is not the time to reveal that you have had a crush on me. It just bums me out and makes me think that you've just been listening to my stories enough to know when I am "finally and actually single".  Anyone with half an eyeball towards my heart or mind would know that this is not the time for that kind of reveal. My heart is sad and there is a beauty in that to respect. I'm not going to numb out and fast forward and all of that crap.  "I'm not that type of bitch", as they (Cardi B) say(s). I will be that little faggot dandy that will need time for a proper burial and send off for my little heart and for a new, seasoned, and bigger one to return in its place.

(pause)

Lastly, again un-related:

1. Everyone has to do something and everything against the detention centers and family separation.

2. Fuck the Janus Decision. Stay in your union. If you start a job that is union, choose to be in it.


be well; be loved

k.

Locked Rooms and Delayed Savorings: Sleep Edition

About to turn in for the evening.  It's been a long, fun, misunderstood, productive, enjoyable day. I'm beat.

I'll leave you with a quote from a final interview with Foucault, because I can and because I feel his point, here, on denial.

Be well; be loved,

k.

P.S. Although I enjoyed the New York Trilogy when I read it a million years ago, I think Paul Auster is kind of a dick knob. The interviews I've heard with him are pompous and dated. He's overrated. Is this just me?  [Full disclosure: I think the majority of U.S. born cis white straight guy writers are overrated. Yes, yes: Your drugs and your travels and your deep, deep thoughts. Zzzzz.]

Sex on the Sheets

This painting, Reclining Woman on Leopard Skin (1927), is by Otto Dix.

Consider it, will you?

(click on the image to enlarge it)


Be well, be loved,

k.


P.S. I'm past the 10% mark of the 50,000-word-novel-by-the-last-night-of-November goal that I started November 1st. Makes one be creative in when/how/where they can write while still working, going to class, taking care of life.  It's a good lesson to learn, stretching these muscles and finding these crevices to hide in and write.  Strangely, there is still a lot of socializing that is possible when you're around other people and their artistic endeavors: An added and deeply enjoyed bonus.