this is the link, where you can find the boat, and the keyhole and lots of things that have already happened

while er are here have i ever talked about vehicles, and how being in one is this trance where you both still and moving? it is weird how they crawl all over the world with us inside of them and how they place us where we otherwise could not be. like in the sky. and travelling across america--what did we do before the highways--there is all this land in the middle that just exists and is so vast.

etc.

disconnected and disoriented.

i'm trying to learn from it.

and i miss reading books.

spring/break

landscapes on sponges have become vehicles that take me places that become photographs that are projected over toy cars connected to computer chips/fans/lightbulbs.

if I take a slice, or a bar of time and insert it where it does not belong then am I creating a new space in/of time? what about the blank spot that is left behind.

if I command z then can I move forward, or what if I did and then I had to watch the moment before that action over and over again.

When you smell something it is really your physical environment penetrating your body.

I have no food.

I want to shut myself in a room somewhere and make things.

and what about tethering. and a screen of balloons that detach and float away one at a time.

I still have a box of geodes that I have to crack.

I am feeling stuck as usual. or incompetent, or behind or that my approach is wrong. I have been having trouble remembering things and I think it is because so much is locked up inside of my head. I don't even understand the lists that I make. and I am afraid that I have squandered the opportunity to just make without any consequences.

If spring break was actually a time machine.

i am home

the great red tilting boat is no longer teetering on the sidewalk, slumping in the mist.

it must have floated away, or rolled down the street, or been bought, maybe even renamed, even if that is bad luck?

at dusk the light is so blue, blue cellophane wrapped sun, or sky, or eyeballs. inside our yellow kitchen the big window is a big blue square that I can see my face in.

while it snowed all day long, while this event took place i was wrapped up in the smell of caramel and orange peel and chocolate and butter. Right when the snow began I was outside picking up sticks--for kindling--for my dad to make fires. one summer I conned my parents into paying me a dollar for every basket of twigs I picked up--and did nothing but that for a week and they owed me over 100 dollars. then another year, after all those sticks has finally all been made into the beginnings of fires, I gave my dad a little card promising to pick up tons and tons of kindling--FOR FREE and I drew flames on it. after he made his fire today he went outside to admire the snow before the sand trucks came around and turned the snow from some sort of perfect, glittering event into somesort of nuisance. He wanted to smell the fire in the air also, the smell of wood burning that sits heavily in the clean cut cold air--musky--warm--metallic--ashy.

outside my window there is one little light that sticks in the ground on the path up to the porch. it is lit up and under a cap of snow, a little mound higher than the rest that is illuminates, like a beacon, or an egg. a little moon that does not move.

when I shut out my lights the ice creeping up my window sparkles. (I cannot help that I think sparkly things are so beautiful). A little colony growing, sliding, building up ever so slowly .

it is very quiet and I am thankful for that, no one banging on doors or walls. snow makes things seems more quiet. I know tomorrow there will be deer tracks and little bird feet scattered, out there they are silently moving, navigating the slippery/soft/glittery ground that is softened and curved by the thick falling of snow. Everything is paired down, every slope is more gentle, everything a rolling singular plane. except for the trees that seem very steady the way they do not in the summer.

run with it

I realized today that all my dissatisfaction is because I am not making things, and haven't been since I began fretting about this winter.

no what you want it to be, what it is

if you suspend something in space can you also suspend it in time?

bags of water suspended in a doorway, if this create such a specific, distorted image, along with the meaning of water that usually moves, measures time and motion...a snapshot of something in time/motion distorted by the trapping of time and motion.

today the snow looked like a recycled, sifting, maybe vibrating curtain, like everything was coming up from the ground, down from the sky, meeting in the middle and hovering there

it's not just old, it's really weird.

i wrote this down thinking it would lead me back to a train of thought but it didn't. where did those things end up?

i feel this constant pull of push (dissatisfaction) really never satiated by one decision or another
balancing the mind with everything else?

ah I think I remember, whirlwind art history talk, artists like Manet that I never really looked back to but I'm starting to want to brush up on all that...like that picnic with the giant woman in the background, all of this information is more valuable than I counted it for. I think I'm going to get my old books out again, plus I have to place myself within the context of other artists for class.

so it's been all about the senses

the senses are basically communication/relationships.

we've been navigating a stage set with hugely magnified eyes, and drawing the space between myself and another with string then we pulled and pushed and stretched and finally released ourselves as the supports of a tangled bridge.

Then emily traced my eyeballs moving with shadows and crayons onto the wall, a giant hand clouding my face then revealing a scrawled map.


a room became an experience of physical sensations. it made everyone laugh and smile which i thought was kind of incredible. i know what it is like to sit in a vessel full of tiny static, moving particles. the static electricity made amazing thing happen--floating,flying through the sir climbing up walls sticking to posts crawling over arms and legs