i’m interested in this ridiculousness, the ways we cultivate random things that aren’t actually random, what are these things about, what is it all about?
i feel like i was making stuff from being really depressed, like there is nothing then there is something, and sometimes it sucks and sometimes it’s alright, it feels like shitting, but i’m not really depressed anymore, like i don’t need to shit creatively, so what am i making from, what the fuck am i making
i made something and i was sad that day. i was completely naked and i drew a drawing of levi and i and he was mad at me in the drawing. he told me that he was never going to forgive.
one more time please
i don't remember
what are you thinking about
what are we working with, loving with, building with???
i am making without stressing out
i am making space for --------
i’m thinking about how i got to this point and how the heck i am making sense of my being
does this make sense?
does anything make sense?
i have a lot that i’m thinking about and
i think it might be too much to stomach i think i think
or maybe my stomach can’t take it or maybe i can
i would have to try and be vulnerable
yikes yikes yikes yikes
i have felt very much on auto pilot recently but now i'm starting to question if that is what autopilot is // is it not knowing what’s going on for me?
in my making i have been guided by all things casual. trying to stay casual. keep it cool. it’s not that deep. it is deep but it also isn’t that deep. just do you, ya know?
i am often really frustrated by my making. i think i have been frustrated for about a year now. i can make a lot of things that don’t really matter to be in the grand scheme of things.
now i'm imagining trying to make something i deeply care about.
what do i deeply care about?
what is my life’s work?
sometimes i don’t know what i’m thinking about
or i can feel it but there are no words
i think i’ve been a caricature of myself during this process - not myself but very much myself animated
i have no words
i could cry i think
maybe this is an ode to self
or self - regard
i’m thinking about the arguments i've been having in my apartment,
how othered i felt for being upset,
people express things so differently its rlly hard for me to grasp sometimes.
i am thinking about how i am a lot of different people in one body and how all of them love in different ways.
i guess i’m thinking about love. and this green that i’m typing with reminds me of summer and how my skin turns golden brown and glows like glitter when i sweat. that’s my favorite version of myself. it would be amazing to witness from another perspective. perspectives seem obsolete sometimes. like i’ve run out of options. but then i realize that the locality of my body, my location, my environment has a lot to do with how i interact with myself or others or my work. it seems like i have to destroy myself to find myself. but do i ever really find myself? maybe i find glimpses?
i’m thinking about collages now. aren’t people just breathing collages? i guess it depends.
i feel like i've been trying to just be weird af and like rly try to dive into the uncomfortable weirdness i sometimes hate to admit is part of me.
i want to be so ridiculous i want to see life as a joke and that i can do what i want and nothings holding me back.
i am thinking about a puzzle and things coming together
and making sense of things
we are making sense of things
what things are we making
does this make sense?
its okay if it doesn't make sense
at least it is
it is what
nothing it just is
and that is enough
that is it
i am thinking about taking a shower and
putting on some lotion
i really need to do some homework
i need to drink some water
i need to pay attention more
i guess this has turned into an “i need”
rather than an “i’m thinking about”