today is our anniversary :)
http://entropy8zuper.org/godlove/6years.html
i guess we still love the net.
i put up the mp3s as an audio stream for two days only.
in more evidence of the world on its ear
we got offered work from Veerle’s boyfriend !
how very very strange, but he is a curator.
his last “website for a show” was pretty stupid though.
anyway, we will be grateful if it turns out well. maybe the museum is loaded. we can’t afford to be too picky at the moment.
i was noticing yesterday how during the day there is such a vibration in me that i cannot concentrate. i think this is just some manifestation of my spontaneity
while i hate the way it fells,
if there is one thing i never want to lose about myself, it is my spontaneity.
I don’t know why life has to be the way it is. i am not sure what force is at work. i do not pretend to know what makes a man a man, and woman, woman.
My coffee with a phantom turned out to be red wine with a wolf. after a long day at grandmother’s house, no less.
---
a day at the sea
A: you should be jealous
Z: why?
A: because the sea and I once were lovers, i know that now.
Z: oh yeah, you aren’t alone... the sea is a whore
---
the sea continued to caress me with his mists as if to say, it’s been a long time my love... you haven’t forgotten have you?
---
and then the wolf
My big monitor that i won in 1996 died today. Very sad, and now i am stuck working on a fuzzy and far too small old monitor.
i guess the only thing i have not forsaken in my life has been my love of computers. i have developed that skill, my skill of making digital artefacts. but, i miss books alot. i wish i had never stopped keeping a sketchbook but such is the way of life, wo. you cannot be an expert at everything. i think at one point it was one of the other. in fact, i guess it started at workman publishing. i can remember itching to draw but sitting in that office not feeling there was a damn thing worth drawing.
and i feel the same way now. in an optimistic mood the other day i thought: damn riea you are in a beautiful mideval city! a whole city just waiting to be drawn. the painting is always more beautiful than the reality, as michael says. but still every day i sit here perfecting my computer art and not giving a damn about the papaer, about the books the ink, i can feel the longing but not the motivation. i guess this is nothing to be unhappy about. but still. i don’t need much encouragement to be dour.
I was still with Marc. I was looking at red stipples on his back he was white almost blue. I had different hair, straight, bob-cut. I was in pajamas. Leaving down a long hallway with lots of sun and I suddenly passed out I remember the view from the floor.
Staring up in my delirium I kept mumbling “rebuild, rebuild, rebuild”
I think i meant books.
The thing that made all this so sad was I was looking at him and I knew I didn’t love him and I wanted desperately to know where Michael was.. but I knew he did not exist here, in this time.
I wonder if this is the “me” in an alternate reality? One where I stayed with Marc, where I had his children. Where i was desperately unhappy...
?
I will say this about this reality. Life here is impossibly good. It just gets dull at times but it is a dulness one can love. at least, I can. But I know i shouldn’t kid myself. there will come a time when i will need a jolt. i’ll try not to burn down any forests.
spent the day making a new sketchbook. i was just in the mood.
it is all uneven. i am calling it in-between
it makes a statement like it’s nothing but
i also subtitled it “the anarchist book design”
i still need a cover
maybe that will evolve as i imagine the rest of the book will too.
after a day of “physical labour” i can remember why i like digital media so much. so i don[‘t give up on that yet, though i am pretty thrilled to have a REAL book to play in.
i wish the net didn’t depress me so
i wish i could have some drug to make it all slow down
i wish i hadn’t inhereted this whiny-ness from my mother
but the beauty that this diary has over a physical journal is that i can easily ammend or trash these silly words that i say. in the analogue books they are there living for eternity! or at least until i burn them.
i do feel the digital is superior
it is just lacking
i need to be outside, i cannot be outside with this sketching
i don’t want to take a picutre, i want my
own impressionsi
don’t you dare be afraid now.
i cleaned the koer but good today.
it needs a table.
i would love to spend the day planning it out tomorrow
but we go to gorik’s place the whole day
i do look forward to it.
wish the kids didn’t hurt my nerves
they are hurt enough
but i felt better
spending the day cleaning outside
it needs a table.
then i can sit there at
and drink tea
and type
and draw and
listen to the birds
and the sounds of the city
sort of outside. anyway.
got a [50Books book] of W.B. Yeats poetry and added the following as the homepage of auriea.org
Murderous little world once our objects had gazes. Our lives
Were fragile, the wind
Could dash them away. Here lies the refugee breather
Who drank a bowl of elsewhere.
Anne Carson “EPITAPH: ZION”