Yes, pretty much just that really. I keep having these ridiculous Sundays that revolve around eating stops, browsing 99p out-of-date magazines at the newsagent, and buying expensive stuff in Fresh & Wild, sorry, 'Wholefoods Market'. I remember the time I had to look up 'wholefood' to see what it meant. It was about the time I found out what fibre was. Look at me now, knowing enough to even fall off the wheat wagon! Brioche and a sausage roll in about 7 minutes, and gorgeous they were. The sausage roll was peppery meaty and I swear had carrots in it. Crunchy sugar brioche, mmm. Maybe I should stick to ready carbs after this cake and roast debacle. Too many things at once and it goes wrong. Sometimes right, but yes, often wrong.
So I buried myself under printed media yet again, but actually enjoyed the sifting. I don't know if it's the omega 3 but I seem to be able to concentrate better lately. Only marginally, but still. If only I could stop time, or at least pull it out a bit. Last week went disgustingly fast, I hardly remember it, and can't say whether I felt hardly or more, alive. The structure of my time is rather disjointed, and it seems to take me a few days to recharge after a trip to Liver. It feels like I am one of those 80s tape recorders, where you press play and record together, and pause between songs. When I go to Liver the pause button is pressed and I'm suspended and when it's released it seems to take time to rectify. I only just realised what my brain is up to when I go there. It has a deep scarred area. It wants to heal but something overrides and goes no, no. Stay down. Well, I figured I know this now,so I can watch it and control it a bit more?
Anyway, it's been a few days and again it's Monday, another chance, another week. I am measuring my time in blocks which is nice, rather than just chronic confusion. It feels like, right, what can I do this week? Where can I end up? It does prove difficult after work has set in and consecutively robs me of 4 constructive days and then it's Sunday, today, and tomorrow's Monday, again. Here we go again. You need these days of rest and recuperation, but then equally you need the days where you just jump into the freezing cold water of real and do some really scary stuff. Those are the days when you push on, and these are the days where you can sit back and admire what you did.
I was reading the paper(s) today and it suddenly dawned on me that I left at exactly the right time. Had I left it six months, the time for new employment would have been rocky and no doubt further made difficult by a 'panic buy' mentality. It would've made moving a whole lot more difficult. And I would've been stuck (imagine). But I felt more than a bit grateful about my job today, and in turn more grateful for my day off from it. Lazy yes, satisfying, YES. Despite the fact that it's 10.06pm, I am still waiting for my Sunday roast, and I have made an accidental twice-baked carrot cake...
Sunday 22 March 2009
Tuesday 10 March 2009
Trying to Find Nice Things
After today's lecture I just felt completely like I was in the wrong place. I don't like fashion, I don't like trends, I don't like the internet, and I'm doomed. I can't do the stupid trend photos because I frigging hate trends. I like nice things, good colours, well made objects, and I like people who like these things. I do not like Grazia. So I took a few photos of people who didn't look too good, watched a courier wearing fluoro trousers for about 4 minutes, spotted a girl wearing the Comptoir des Cotonniers dress. Then I went to B Store for some solace and to assure myself that I Still Like Nice Things. Phew, thank god, I do. Then I found the shop Albam on Beak Street, with its lovely Arthur Beale esque angle and shelves of Monocle magazine and thought, phew, I DO like things. But then it set in that it's not enough to like things, I actually have to say and do something new.
I spotted some cards in the graphics centre, made in the style of paint swatch cards. It made me think about the striped shopping bags, and the things I made at uni, and how I was kind of on the edge of making something important. I was sensing trends when I made that work in 2002, before Pantone Mugs and I'm not Plastic bags. It made me feel like I'm not on the crest of anything right now, and that felt sad really. Like when I thought 3 years ago, wouldn't it be cool to take photographs of what I wear everyday, if I look good, and do something with these delicious images, but by this time blogs were already in bud and I was already too late. That feels rubbish. And now I feel like I'm not on the edge of something new, I'm not even in the sea, I'm just sitting on the beach and haven't got wet one bit.
I guess I am just finding my feet. If someone told me this time last year I'd be working somewhere like Monmouth, learning about the world of lifestyle journalism, with a wealth of friends and an open mind, it would've been unbelievable. The difference is vast. I do need to adjust. And I shouldn't be scolding myself for not being a driving force in a world I only entered six months ago. It's a big place this. The speed is UP. And I'm having IDEAS. Last week, the having of the ideas carried me through, the ideas themselves hardly mattered! I was so pleased! But this week I've been dealt a heaviness from not acting on the ideas. They have lain dormant, and gotten heavy.
I had a bit of a Hustle moment on the river last night. So cheesy, but the sight of Big Ben through the London Eye is just like, shut up and get on with it. Look where you are and get rid of that frigging heaviness and just get on with things. Focus on things, bring things into line, have dreams and ideas and act on them. I'm looking forward to the lessons finishing, using time to get into my head about things. It will be really good to just get into things, and make plans and reevaluations. The course will be over before I know it. I wonder what will happen next.
I spotted some cards in the graphics centre, made in the style of paint swatch cards. It made me think about the striped shopping bags, and the things I made at uni, and how I was kind of on the edge of making something important. I was sensing trends when I made that work in 2002, before Pantone Mugs and I'm not Plastic bags. It made me feel like I'm not on the crest of anything right now, and that felt sad really. Like when I thought 3 years ago, wouldn't it be cool to take photographs of what I wear everyday, if I look good, and do something with these delicious images, but by this time blogs were already in bud and I was already too late. That feels rubbish. And now I feel like I'm not on the edge of something new, I'm not even in the sea, I'm just sitting on the beach and haven't got wet one bit.
I guess I am just finding my feet. If someone told me this time last year I'd be working somewhere like Monmouth, learning about the world of lifestyle journalism, with a wealth of friends and an open mind, it would've been unbelievable. The difference is vast. I do need to adjust. And I shouldn't be scolding myself for not being a driving force in a world I only entered six months ago. It's a big place this. The speed is UP. And I'm having IDEAS. Last week, the having of the ideas carried me through, the ideas themselves hardly mattered! I was so pleased! But this week I've been dealt a heaviness from not acting on the ideas. They have lain dormant, and gotten heavy.
I had a bit of a Hustle moment on the river last night. So cheesy, but the sight of Big Ben through the London Eye is just like, shut up and get on with it. Look where you are and get rid of that frigging heaviness and just get on with things. Focus on things, bring things into line, have dreams and ideas and act on them. I'm looking forward to the lessons finishing, using time to get into my head about things. It will be really good to just get into things, and make plans and reevaluations. The course will be over before I know it. I wonder what will happen next.
Thursday 5 March 2009
Rice, Rice Cakes, Rice Noodles and other Products
I have gone cold turkey, and feel slightly crazy. I've got a kitchen table full of correct merchandise and a cupboard FULL of bottled additions. It feels a bit wrong, I feel obsessive, I had to hide my taking of five pills under the table in Leon yesterday. It wasn't something to be paraded. I don't want to feel like a health crank, when all I'm doing is grabbing what feels like the last in a long line of chances. "What are you doing it for?" If you can't tell by looking at me, I shalln't say. But the point is, I felt like a crank filling my table with rice, rice cakes, rice noodles and rye bread, but it's just a different pattern of behavior. If I filled my table with Mini Cheddars, Scotch Pancakes, Weeto's and microwave chips (typical choices of me as a teenager) it would look equally as sick. It just belongs to another way of choosing. Like when she just didn't get how the British think crisps are a 'treat', when Swedish people think they're fucking gross.
Being aware of what you're body is and does in interesting, but shouldn't get obsessive. We should always have better things to do. I decided that diets have become a hobby, people are so bored with their lives, that they actually enjoy working something out in the ad breaks. Even I did WeightWatchers (yes, lost the ten uni pounds!), sadly working out stuff like if you don't have a potato with dinner you can have a Mars bar with a cup of tea when Sex & the City's on later. Makes me feel gross just thinking of it. But then I was just grabbing at what I knew, trying to make patterns and stability out of something, when leaving home for the first time.
Anyway. I've been putting of writing for some time. The process feels like a train with the engine at the front, the engine being all this mindblowing input and new ways of doing things. The process being the carriages which are just being pulled along by the overload of learning and newness. What I need to do is put the engine at the back, so the theory just pushes the content along. It's been difficult. Things have become too conscious and loaded. I can't even blog without worrying about it being MEANINGFUL and GOOD. Also I am very tired. The juggling is difficult. I don't know how it will pan out, but the geography is not conducive to productivity. It stunts things. Every time I go to Liverpool it's a holiday. And I don't have time for them right now. Though it feels excellent to have them booked and sorted.
I just bought 2 more magazines. I have got a lot. But sitting in an overflowed bath of all the magazines and their existence is good, because they are less hallowed things, more flimsy commodities. Makes it easier to imagine oneself being part of them. Over the past weeks I've realised the way things work. Like when that toilet roll story came out last week, I've seen it roll into the features section. I'm picking out the news that people are transforming into the muse of a lite piece. I'm seeing the cogs. But I'm not actually doing ti myself. What is hard, is that I'm not part of the machine yet, so I'm on the ideas conveyor belt (see me, having IDEAS, shit!)but not yet doing them so I'm just stuck. It's frustrating! But again, the only way forward is to DO. Stop thinking as much. Be in it, do it, live. That old advice Sol LeWitt gave to Eva Hesse.
You seem as always, and being you, hate every minute of it. Don't! Learn to say "Fuck You" to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder, wandering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, gasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, rumbling, rambling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-poking, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eying, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding grinding grindingaway at yourself. Stop it and just DO.
...Don't worry about cool, make your own uncool. Make your own, your own world... You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to DO! I have much confidence in you and even though you are tormenting yourself, the work you do is very good. Try to do some BAD work. The worst you can think of and see what happens but mainly relax and let everything go to hell.
Being aware of what you're body is and does in interesting, but shouldn't get obsessive. We should always have better things to do. I decided that diets have become a hobby, people are so bored with their lives, that they actually enjoy working something out in the ad breaks. Even I did WeightWatchers (yes, lost the ten uni pounds!), sadly working out stuff like if you don't have a potato with dinner you can have a Mars bar with a cup of tea when Sex & the City's on later. Makes me feel gross just thinking of it. But then I was just grabbing at what I knew, trying to make patterns and stability out of something, when leaving home for the first time.
Anyway. I've been putting of writing for some time. The process feels like a train with the engine at the front, the engine being all this mindblowing input and new ways of doing things. The process being the carriages which are just being pulled along by the overload of learning and newness. What I need to do is put the engine at the back, so the theory just pushes the content along. It's been difficult. Things have become too conscious and loaded. I can't even blog without worrying about it being MEANINGFUL and GOOD. Also I am very tired. The juggling is difficult. I don't know how it will pan out, but the geography is not conducive to productivity. It stunts things. Every time I go to Liverpool it's a holiday. And I don't have time for them right now. Though it feels excellent to have them booked and sorted.
I just bought 2 more magazines. I have got a lot. But sitting in an overflowed bath of all the magazines and their existence is good, because they are less hallowed things, more flimsy commodities. Makes it easier to imagine oneself being part of them. Over the past weeks I've realised the way things work. Like when that toilet roll story came out last week, I've seen it roll into the features section. I'm picking out the news that people are transforming into the muse of a lite piece. I'm seeing the cogs. But I'm not actually doing ti myself. What is hard, is that I'm not part of the machine yet, so I'm on the ideas conveyor belt (see me, having IDEAS, shit!)but not yet doing them so I'm just stuck. It's frustrating! But again, the only way forward is to DO. Stop thinking as much. Be in it, do it, live. That old advice Sol LeWitt gave to Eva Hesse.
You seem as always, and being you, hate every minute of it. Don't! Learn to say "Fuck You" to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder, wandering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, gasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, rumbling, rambling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-poking, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eying, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding grinding grindingaway at yourself. Stop it and just DO.
...Don't worry about cool, make your own uncool. Make your own, your own world... You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to DO! I have much confidence in you and even though you are tormenting yourself, the work you do is very good. Try to do some BAD work. The worst you can think of and see what happens but mainly relax and let everything go to hell.
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