Time is different here. There is no doubt about that. Tasks accumulate in lists that never get looked at, nothing checked off. Words are different. I forget how to say things. I can't find sounds that stand straight up, poised on the end of my tongue. There's nowhere to be but always somewhere to go, something to do. My heart feels like a little tiny bird trapped in a cage with the door wide open. Little tiny bird about to have a heart-attack.
Maybe I'm the canary in the cole mine.
Something like that.
I want to do some body casting. I want to lie down and be cryogenically frozen. I want to go to bed.
I've had too much coffee. I think I'm dying.
I wish I could blame it on L.A. I wish I could blame it on Time and Place. Maybe there is no answer for these things. Everything seemed so much clearer before.
Deer Skull Lucy Madeline Los Angeles, CA 3/20/10
1. Record the sounds I need
2. Edit the video
3. Ask Kevin about the interview footage
4. Relax
5. Email the woman about WOMANHOUSE
6. Be grateful
7. Remember to look at this list
oh, and
8. I will not have anymore coffee today
Experiencing my read of your read an intense sensation of Psycho-Kinship. True art facilitates the truth in personal emotion. Great art stirs one in the affirmation and acknowledgement of your reality, my reality, our reality. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteJames G.
Thank you so much for your kind words
ReplyDelete