Trying to be a human

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Just had a little studio visit.
Honestly I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing right now.

Trying to prepare the next zine club.
Trying to finish planning this wedding.
Trying to comprehend actually getting married.
Trying not to freak out about the future.


And on top of that,

Trying to get into the studio.
Trying to understand what I'm making.
Trying to play.
Trying not to force it.
Trying to be intentional.
But not too intentional.


Then there's the more boring things like,

Trying to make sure all my bills get paid on time.
Trying to figure out what to make for dinner.
Trying not to eat coco puffs for every meal.


Being a human is hard.

in april

Thursday, May 5, 2016


I hung up a long shelf in my studio, six feet long, and a place to hold all of my weird broken objects. There are my broken cups, the broken glass from my french press, the tiny broken pane of glass from the frame that held a photograph of Carly and I. Then there are the dried flower petals, a stack of envelopes with an ink spill on all the corners, the scrap of dryer lint that's light on one side and dark on the other, the empty ink bottle with a ring of dark blue dried in the bottom, the hard little ball of paper–something that went through the washer and came out a dried paper rock.

These are the things I'm weirdly attracted to right now.

So the studio has been a bit strange. I've been here, I've been coming. On Tuesday Melina and I came in and tore everything apart and re organized. Now my desk is by the window, right by the window, and there is a scattered map of post-it notes on the wall, me trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing. I don't really know.

For the record here are a list of those words on the wall:

time
sentiment
self
memory
narrative
diary/journal
routine
records
archive
light
trace
ghosts
orphans
fragments
purposeless things
objects
ephemera


For the record here is a list of other things I'm interested in:

Photographs not being Photographs
Unreadable text
Objects as placeholders