Gross dark sticky liquid all over the train floor this morning (oh and hey all over the ocean, too, what do you know about that?). What’s the matter with this city? This country? Americans need to learn to be more mortified. Mortification is the key to social harmony, I think.
Here on the raped earth, I’m sneezing.
Subway poster of a small boy agape at a large carnelian-colored shiny frog. The caption: “Our mission is to make sure moments like this never become extinct.”
As if the purpose of ecological conservation were primarily to maintain human delight and fascination (NB: that of small boys.) It’s like Michael Jackson saying, ever so feyly, “I love this planet.” Whether or not an eccentric celebrity “loves” the planet is quite beside the point. Isn’t that obvious?
Americans need to be more mortified. This vulgar vulgar city. Punctured casings: spew. I’m a little unsteady on my unicorn still: still in jet lag’s gaping maw. Ipod as new ghetto blaster. He claims the confined space with sound – HIS sound (another analogy of rape).
Well, no wonder I am so prone to escapist fantasies. On this gross, dark sticky train with its spilled gross dark sticky liquid.
Cop comes by and shuts him up. I’m terribly grateful for the repressive forces of the state for once.
I sewed the skirt out of a material covered with a print of buttons. I keep meaning to sew real buttons onto the skirt as well, to create a collision between the object represented and its representations. But I am characteristically impatient and always want to move on to other projects. The jet lag doesn’t help much with the irritability quotient, ugh.
Inspiration for print + print = Japan. Kimonos and chiyogami:
This theme at Narita, Terminal 2:
Japan. Oh, Japan.
Almost finished with The Savage Detectives. It’s very wonderfully written. Sometimes I am annoyed by its beat-infused ethos. But no matter.