and i feel okay, in fact, i'm basking in the glow of surviving without them. I realise this could be a false independence as my serotonin levels will remain elevated for a while yet, but who knows i may be able to keep them up all by myself! I'm thinking of taking up running, and if my external circumstances improve that may be enough to keep me going (this has happened before). I just need a few breaks in my creative-life/career/ love-life, or any one of those would do actually.
I am no longer twitching. I am not waking up in the middle of the night. I'm still having some of that numerical dyslexia. That dark colouring around my eyes has gone-other people have commented on this. I think i may have put my half a stone back on. i am not plagued by disproportionate fears about my health or my future in general. I am showing an incredible ability to think about today and maybe tomorrow but not much further than that. I have realised that i am most happy when i am NOT 'multi-tasking'. Does anyone have a word for just focusing on one thing at a time? For doing it and doing it well, and for feeling unequivocally satisfied with that activity, both for it's own sake and for the end or on-going product?
I think it's time that we start inventing our own words to replace that corporate bullshit that is invading the minds of ordinary people and distracting them from free thought.
Any more words or phrases that the world would be better without? Lets have a bonfire....
Sunday, April 22, 2007
32 days after ditching Prozac
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Paper
Have you missed me?
Or is that too much pressure on the relationship at this point?
Anyway.
Iv'e been decorating my beautiful house on Hysteria Lane. To describe my activities more correctly, i've been scraping, filling, sanding, stripping many layers of wallpaper, clearing up whole planets of plaster dust, putting on at least three coats of everything (danish oil, undercoat, emulsion, gloss) and generally grafting like a labourer. I no longer need sandpaper as the surface of my very own hands will now suffice for removing old varnish/paintwork. I've been so unsexy; when i sat down on the toilet, plaster fell out of my pants.
However, i said i wouldn't moan about 'getting work done' because it's middle class and boring to do so. I keep reminding myself that i am lucky, and a little surprised to be in this position. It is, after all, only eight years ago that i found myself unemployed, in a council house with neither dog nor man to protect me. But that's another story...
So yes, i have removed all the traces of the daily activity of the previous owner. All those scuff marks and kiddy scribbles have gone. Weird that isn't it? How we all make those tracks of our movements on our home. Like drawing the same thing over and over again.
There's lots of other stuff to catch up on (a backblog in fact). But i don't know if i've lost it for now so lets leave it at that.
Or is that too much pressure on the relationship at this point?
Anyway.
Iv'e been decorating my beautiful house on Hysteria Lane. To describe my activities more correctly, i've been scraping, filling, sanding, stripping many layers of wallpaper, clearing up whole planets of plaster dust, putting on at least three coats of everything (danish oil, undercoat, emulsion, gloss) and generally grafting like a labourer. I no longer need sandpaper as the surface of my very own hands will now suffice for removing old varnish/paintwork. I've been so unsexy; when i sat down on the toilet, plaster fell out of my pants.
However, i said i wouldn't moan about 'getting work done' because it's middle class and boring to do so. I keep reminding myself that i am lucky, and a little surprised to be in this position. It is, after all, only eight years ago that i found myself unemployed, in a council house with neither dog nor man to protect me. But that's another story...
So yes, i have removed all the traces of the daily activity of the previous owner. All those scuff marks and kiddy scribbles have gone. Weird that isn't it? How we all make those tracks of our movements on our home. Like drawing the same thing over and over again.
There's lots of other stuff to catch up on (a backblog in fact). But i don't know if i've lost it for now so lets leave it at that.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Andy Goldsworthy
Went to see his latest installations at YSP.
Wow.
I'm already a big fan, so predisposed, but check this out it's really good.
Four rooms, each with a different sculpture, not so much in the room, but making the room. The first space is dominated by this ceiling high cairn made of logs, left in their natural shape but differing in length and width to make that classic Goldsworthy egg shape- and you can touch this one! I touched it carefully, not because it looks unstable (it looks incredibly solid), but with respect for the system and care that holds this shape together. We all know the thing about an egg being 'uncrushable' from top to bottom, well this piece takes that apprehensive application of imaginary force to another level.
The second space has walls of dried, cracked clay in this beautiful pattern that looks contrived almost in it's repetition of the fissures (although at the same time you know it can't be contrived). This is echoed nicely in the final space where hangs another motif of his: a curtain of leaf stalks that are held together by blackthorns. The curtain is suspended horizontally across the room from the ceiling to the floor and features the hole motif that appears so often in his work. He has put a hole in something that is hardly there already; a delicate curtain of something and nothing like a spiders web.
But finally, my favourite piece. It was almost too amazing to be around. I wanted everyone else to go away, it felt like a private moment as soon as i went in there. Goldsworthy has constructed a dome inside the room from inter-laced chestnut branches. The result is this incredible 'home' that is so warm and living (i'm resisting the description 'womb-like' here because it wasn't like that). The heat generated was totally unexpected for me; you can feel and smell the combination of sap and heat in a way that is almost like sex - or maybe that's just me. We all said, "I could live here." It was an odd sensation, and i like the way you can't see when you first enter, there is no light so you have to wait till your eyes get used to the dark before you can appreciate the intricacies of the top of the dome for instance.
Hats of Mr. Goldsworthy, hats off.
Wow.
I'm already a big fan, so predisposed, but check this out it's really good.
Four rooms, each with a different sculpture, not so much in the room, but making the room. The first space is dominated by this ceiling high cairn made of logs, left in their natural shape but differing in length and width to make that classic Goldsworthy egg shape- and you can touch this one! I touched it carefully, not because it looks unstable (it looks incredibly solid), but with respect for the system and care that holds this shape together. We all know the thing about an egg being 'uncrushable' from top to bottom, well this piece takes that apprehensive application of imaginary force to another level.
The second space has walls of dried, cracked clay in this beautiful pattern that looks contrived almost in it's repetition of the fissures (although at the same time you know it can't be contrived). This is echoed nicely in the final space where hangs another motif of his: a curtain of leaf stalks that are held together by blackthorns. The curtain is suspended horizontally across the room from the ceiling to the floor and features the hole motif that appears so often in his work. He has put a hole in something that is hardly there already; a delicate curtain of something and nothing like a spiders web.
But finally, my favourite piece. It was almost too amazing to be around. I wanted everyone else to go away, it felt like a private moment as soon as i went in there. Goldsworthy has constructed a dome inside the room from inter-laced chestnut branches. The result is this incredible 'home' that is so warm and living (i'm resisting the description 'womb-like' here because it wasn't like that). The heat generated was totally unexpected for me; you can feel and smell the combination of sap and heat in a way that is almost like sex - or maybe that's just me. We all said, "I could live here." It was an odd sensation, and i like the way you can't see when you first enter, there is no light so you have to wait till your eyes get used to the dark before you can appreciate the intricacies of the top of the dome for instance.
Hats of Mr. Goldsworthy, hats off.
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