[The following are personal notes from Wednesday. I considered editing these in order that they make more sense, but I’ll leave them unedited for now, and develop the ideas separately.]
I have to admit feeling slightly apprehensive, but without foundation. I’m totally healthy and fine, and am really going to enjoy this. I think a degree of apprehension comes with respect for the experience.
I saw butterflies on the plants when I went into the supermarket. I think this will be a good day.
Begin - Soccer. I see the sign “See more” on side of field. Strange day. 7 - 1, seems like an equally interesting thing.
+ 1 hour (10:17)
Tingling feeling - been listening to music recorded whilst at arch. One of the tunes is the most relaxing thing I’ve heard. super chill. Windy noises outside. Extremely. Probably construction fellas beginning the day of work, hear murmur rings.
10:24. Sensation bodily now.
Playing with pens in the light, thinking about how they promise a lot (with their highlighter shell) - but the colour inside only sometimes delivers that hue. Unless I’m painting hard glossy plastic, it’ll never be the same.
The material of the light of colour computer is what I should think about.
Noticing little things at 10:30. like, the play of drops on the wood(en boards outside - the panelling.) . The many colours of the stones on the path outside.
I am responding to light. being in light has a sensation attached, and my head turns.
[redacted]s computer sits next to mine and is even more reflective. A tiny white bird on the opening - welcome.
That tiny white bird is now the mouse pointer, and I gesture - my finger moves minimally. still feels tugged by the surface of the thing.
I stretch my body like it hasn’t been stretched - for some time.
11am. Drawing flower, considering the geometry and artistry of the thing. That reaching for the image ‘is’ the tension.
Let it flow from you. Do not stop it. Not by small means or bounds. Get the letterers wrongs. do not hold onto those things. The wind gusts as you write. Forcefully.
Let those little delicate geometries not be swayed in the sea of coke bottles and tip top ice-cream. The wake in the wash is still very much there.
Three icons are framed by the text window. Alan Watts, A melting head - a transcending one, and the words “Love and Marriage.”. I take a screenshot.
Share this video. Share it. I felt a small pull of sharing the images I had created, but they need to be in a garden for shelter. At least til they’re strong enough. But no! Nature is resilient and doesn’t have the same problems as I. I am nature. I’m not gonna second guess that piece of writing.
Writing is too slow - it seems, for the moment.
11am. Have a little laugh to myself when I consider the effectiveness of the paper, of course it is.
When I make a decision - there’s sort of like, ripples. There are no small experiences here.
It’s not that everything is grand and deluxe. It’s more like things ease into other things.
11.29. Tracepants. Under the watchful eye of coke, I have no concerns about my own body.
12.52. Alan Watts guided meditation end. (Awake in the wash, starry hands.)
You’re counting your own moments here.
(the signs say 1:07)
(not slept, but awake.)
Every room was a different thought process. Some about the vibration of stuff under my fingertips as it sort of peeled off my thinking.
Don’t feel exhausted. the source is not you.
Moments of depth appear transitory - and I find interesting when sometimes worked with, and complementary to - lightness.
Lightness and heaviness and tension and dark constriction are just happenings, and we can choose how we react to these.
I love this.
as a culmination of forces
I am free of this
but I am also not free.
flower bubble trapped
these marks I leave when I touch
2.04 Phrases such as “it’s the thought that counts” has multiple deep resonances in me. These ideas could be like self replicating structures, and form the ‘hard’ boundaries of the space.
When I see a fence, I don’t just see the fence. I see yellow. purple. swaying. rising. falling. <repeat>
I see all the imaginary structures that surround and imbue that fence with it’s histories.
When I say ‘ I built that fence’ - it’s basically the same as saying, I stood for that ideal. What are the fences we build around us, and what do they mean?—— This fence is made of (I have no idea) wood. It’s built with methods that I don’t know, and maybe even disagree with. But I’ll allow myself that foundation - what does it allow me to do?
2.13 shift of focus to cat
‘ I am a little cat, sitting on a little mat, breathing and breathing out, looking in and looking out.’
words drip too slow out of me, and seeing the reflections isn’t enough.
(2.27) Walking around outside feels a concrescence of those ideological structures in tension. We make these, whilst adrift ourselves. Nothing has foundation save for the ideal of that foundation.
In revealing those forces that in turn look at us, and - realising that moment of reflection is always a bit awkward, I think, and sometimes has violence whether it be intended or an unintentional.
structures of power.
sway in the wind.
(2.35) being able to laugh at myself again is great, even momentarily. (capt’s (cat) - a log thought)
if you already understand what it is you’re getting in for, when putting the thing in, the experience might not have value.
The value is inherently in the surprise in the thing.
one way of looking at these structures is that saying - how can you build your fence from this wood - it’s such limited means. It’s equally as viable a technology as anything is. I guess this what we call ’number 8 wire’ philosophy. This is itself an ideal being held up. On a shifting raft of things. As the captain of that ship - shiit.
what holds the ship afloat is ideas, and they don’t come from you.
they come from out. with out. and you
held adrift in a storm - sitting on a fence, I did the best I could to recreate this experience.
technology is primarily enabled in the aggregation of power structures.
twitter is creepy.
ideological spiral. how to maintain position. very windy, but dead calm.
Alan Watts - the spectrum of Love.
(to 45”), composed now, awaiting meet.