This week I filled up 10 pages of my sketchbook. Truth be told Apichatpong occupies like 4 out of these yet it has been deep feeding time nevertheless. Thank you moon for broadening my pupils and bringing my way many hearty souls. The week was topped off with a lengthy conversation with R. about growing. We're trying to put together and application for a.pass and we spoke navigating the methods of artistic research we're already practicing. Some of the thing that were mentioned include: learning from manual processes, translating for each other, reading (out loud), scanning, conversation as changing your mind and singing while biking. The latter surprised me the most but that's just because I haven't been biking the last two years so I feel disconnected. It's a car free day in Brukselka. Instead of honking I hear skaters skating up and down my window street. I'm drinking coffee and thinking about this week's meals. I think I'm gonna go for some baked root vegetables with bulgur and a lentil dal later on. The sunny days are leaving us and we ought to warm up our bodies from the inside. I shouldn't lose the strong currents, I need to continue surrendering to them, they will lead, I don't have to lead. How to be motivated on my own—I already know. Don't look in the exterior. Make offerings, give away. Listen. Engage in what expands you.
https://raoul.werkplaatstypografie.org/biography/!!! (narrative is a form of ritual)
We could be touching right now yet we're standing away, away from ourselves. The sound is filling my lungs but I'm not screaming, I will not be screaming tonight. He laughs at their glasses in discomfort and spills his drink. The day filled up nicely with grains of activities, all non-sensical, all there to just take up space. I wish some would take up more space than others. I wish our chances were greater than what seems to be a very lonely time. We're just very fucking entangled and I'm standing in this noisy bar, thinking that these people remember the past but they cannot take me back. Muddy days.
Idę najbardziej śmieciową ulicą w mieście - otaczają mnie stosy ubrań, kosmetyków i zbędnych obiektów do postawienia sobie (gdzieś) - wszystkie przyjechały z odległych zakątków naszej planety, aby przemienić się w złoto w kieszeni kilku osób z innych odległych zakątków. Idąc tą ulicą czuję nieskończoną ilość historii, które nakładają się na to miejsce, nieskończoną ilość wymiarów i żyć, to wszystko poprzekładane potem i tłuszczem. W takich miejscach nie wiatru. Nie ma go w pokojach ludzi szyjących koszulki, nie ma go w pokojach ludzi kupujących koszulki. Idąc tą ulicą czuje się gęstość procesów, w których jesteśmy zaplątani.
Things to write about:
Im scrolling through my screenshots, reaching as far as maybe two years? I find very similar patterns of interests, something at the crossroads between the role and meaning of the Internet and the spiritual dimension of how to deal with planetary and ethical criseses. Im sort of surprised the thread is this consistent. There is of course some notions of trans-forming and re-creating identities or forms of representation but there the interest is more visual or aesthetic. It could be interesting to write about how the two (the visual and the intellectual) complement as I'm usually quite judgemental of those aesthetic desires, perhaps because I can't 'understand' them but now scrolling through I also notice I simply don't act on them much. The occasional image of myself that passes through is somewhat disappointing. Most of the time I feel what I always feel looking at photos of my younger self: disassociation. I think its because I see someone who's afraid, or reduced to a safer version of themselves. also someone conflicted about the phone mirror. I think I mostly use the phone as a window that allows me to see into something else or somewhere else, very rarely do I turn it towards myself. It still amazes me that people document themselves all the time. Just today I saw someone walking and watching a video of themselves on their phone, one made for some social media. Who are those phone-selves for everyone? Is it vanity or security? Or is it sociality?
Ive been thinking about radicalisation, especially in the shape of action. Its a standard strand of thought that strides by when I end up on the plane - my insides twist and all I can think about is how my whole being is against the action Im performing yet I'm still performing it. The only thing I can cling onto is social research - the whole ordeal of arriving, walking through, undressing, unpacking, being touched, drinking over-prized machine coffee, standing in toilet queues and then getting into a can that reaches the speed beyond our comprehension makes for a pristine observatory spot. But yeah what crossed my mind earlier today was this notion of showing active disagreement. I realised I really disagree with the essential definition of children, teens, adults and elderly that European policies are build upon. It'd be nice to look into those definition and find ways of acting against them. I was thinking of Ros working with elderly women or the joy of speaking to Gucio. I want to dismantle the stages of 'usability' or when should someone do what. Whenever I get triggered to think I need to prove useful to the society I inhabit, I should be reminded of the opposition towards the governance of said society. Just how to express that in a way when Im not elevating myself beyond others, where Im working from within a side tunnel, carving a different way? ps. i really need to get a new pair of glasses
Walking back from V., singing about Virgin Mary because I see her at every corner around here. In the song I ask her to forgive me for not protecting her from God raping her and forcing her to give birth to Jesus. I said I was too young to speak so I couldn't do much. But I still carry shame in me, I feel her judgement. But the song was good, maybe I'll leave the island cloaked in forgiveness. We talked about war and drugs. Earlier I followed the thought path of 'if you're critical of this reality, how would yours look like'? Like what would my ideal context/community/place look like? Matter is a negotiation and I don't subscribe to (I am critical of) those kinds of practices of totalising vision but it still felt worth while to think through tweaks like: how are children treated and who raised them? How do humans commute? How does the urban look like? What is the educational path of a lifetime? How does difference look like? What is ritualistic, what is regular, what is chaotic? Here I see that all it takes is to be present.