100 abandoned houses
- i find the ones in the snow particularly melancholy.
flickering signifiers
the lens is a filter.
i am staring at a photo i took of a friend recently, who is regarding me in return through the camera lens. i am trying to discern his expression, to understand whether it is explicitly for me or just a product of having one’s picture taken. without the intermediary lens, i am a pretty accurate reader of emotional content in people’s eyes, but the flat image on my screen leaves me uncertain. i can’t see what he’s feeling.
another photo, an actual print snapshot from college, shows a group gathered around a table. unnoticed at the time i took the photo, a friend peeks out from the corner, shaking her fist at me and scowling. now, when i look at the image, i remember how angry she was at me that day even though i didn’t know it when the shutter clicked.
in this way, information accumulates slowly in the reading of a photograph over time, beyond the immediate recording of physical details. i’m working out how this is tied to the act of photography, rather than looking at an image made by someone else. maybe it’s time to revisit camera lucida again.
still thinking about crystal structures. this one, from Sims 3, is called a plumbob & indicates the mood of the character above whom it hovers.
jorinde voigt
i wish my work was as cool and intellectual as hers. maybe once i have my EU citizenship i’ll be suddenly transformed into a radical-thinking european.
73
The Tao is always at ease.
It overcomes without competing,
answers without speaking a word,
arrives without being summoned,
accomplishes without a plan.
Its net covers the whole universe.
And though its meshes are wide,
it doesn’t let a thing slip through.
- trans. Stephen Mitchell
sketch of an idea.
the shoe problem is problematic primarily because i own so many pairs of ugly shoes that i never wear, yet can’t seem to get rid of.
urban wildlife.
there’s a young blackbear running around my neighborhood. last night, a family of bears showed up in all of my dreams. i am both concerned for this bear (and hope he finds his way back to safer terrains), and also pleased to imagine him lumbering through street intersections without a second thought to the inappropriateness of his surroundings.
bears have been invading civilization for a long time, stealing pies off windowsills and sleeping on backyard swingsets. i know there are plenty of concerns about ecosystem imbalances that cause such behavior, but for a little while longer i am going to hold on to magical realism and be pleased that there’s something a little wild at work outside my window.
love to mary alice, jaime & their sweet new baby girl. i can already tell we’re going to get along swimmingly.
just returned from las vegas. i have a lot to say about architecture, scale and the construction of public spaces, but that will have to wait until 3 loads of laundry are done and i’ve returned a weekend’s worth of emails.
note to critical self:
“sketchbooks are not about being a good artist, they’re about being a good thinker.”
spring resolutions
1. do not buy any more shoes in 2009. in possession of 33 pairs, not counting roller or ice skates.
2. do 20 sit-ups before bed.
3. cut refined sugar out completely.
4. do not start freaking out about turning 35. there’s time enough for that in 6 months.
5. take more pictures of people and fewer pictures of the cat.
chi-wave.
yesterday morning i had an acupuncture treatment, trying to get balanced out and get my chi moving more strongly. i think i was too brave; when she asked i said it wasn’t too much, even though the pulse was really strong. i developed a nasty bruise at one of the insertion points, and later a splitting headache. i went to bed at 9pm and slept for 12 hours. today i feel weak, but more myself again.
the last time this happened to me was when i threw myself full-force into the open ocean in provincetown. i was exhausted and dizzy for three days.
lesson learned in giving too much energy away.
