(night) i went the the neau gallery a few days ago. it was on saturday. i like the neau gallery because even though it's so small because i like to sit and stare at singular paintings by artists i like and have formed an unreasonable attachment to for a very long time (not that long by the standard of people that actually truly stare for a long time). i spent maybe a little over an hour there. about 30 minutes of that time was spent staring at a single painting by klimt, portrait of gertha loew. intimate portraits make me feel really bad. i think there is a specific intimacy that has been lost that i dont thing we (I) can recover. there is another painting there that i used to stare at too, but i dont anymore because i have a large print of it in my living room so i stare at it here instead of there. i dont know its name. it is a chic nude. after leaving the gallery i walked too far to a movie theater and watched the movie cemetery of splendour. it was slow and beautiful and made me feel really bad. i like things that make me feel really bad and dont really give any sense of hope. it's hope that i cant handle. the idea that this is the best things could be is satisfying to me. it heals me and let's me appreciate life and love everything that has ever happend to me. if i actually learned and knew, knew very intensely and deeply and, this especailly, actually believed that things could be better, that there was somewhere that this wasnt actually happening, i wouldnt be able to handle it. i can already barely handle all that has been handed to me. i have 18 days of my lexapro left, and 23 days until i see my psychiatrist i have been avoiding because i dont like talking to her because of the way she sees mental health (she sees things as a psychiatrist would: medication first). if i accepted that i could have made better choices, instead of that the choices i made were what i made and that's the end of it, that i could not do better in the future when i did as "best" as i could, that the "best" was not good enough, then i would collapse in on myself in a way that i could not recover from.... the movie ends with a two scenes. one is of a group doing calisthenics outside together slightly out of beat from eachother and from the song playing. the song playing is love is a song by DJ soulscape. there is a voice over that says the following: " there's a mountain of bricks. it spreads out like a flower blossom. it stretches to the sky. to devour the sun. it is very far away. it looks ominous and fearsome. it pretends to be a pure and flawless being. pretends to be as soft as a childs palm. before it disappears, the wall bulges and changes shape. as if it knows, that when it falls, it would be an astounding sight to behold." the other scene is the protagonist, an older woman, watching children play soccer over mounds of dirt dug up for some government project. thousands of years ago and beneath the new mounds there was a palace for kings. it ends with her looking into the distance and unfocused on the scene in front of her. her eyes wide and her face tight. she can feel the entirety of her life bearing down on her. i wouldnt describe the look on her face as fear. i dont think she's scared. if she looked scared that would do a disservice to what she is actually feeling. it would be a boring feeling. the worst thing you can actually be is bored of it all. to me, it looks like she is just unable to accept it all.
(morning) im sitting in my room looking at the videos i took of the tree(s) in my backyard last year. in the entire year i only took 5. two are from the same day and from the same storm.
(evening) i took a weaving class on sunday, four days ago. it's spread across two days each 7 hours long. weaving has two directions: warp and weft. it took 7 hours to about (with my limited experience and minimal experience) to get to the point that you could describe it as weaving. setting of the warp is all patience and effort. preplanning. it took 7 hours for me to start running thread back and forth. after 5 lines i realized there were mistakes and my warp was not perfectly in the pattern i decided on as i set it up. i ran out of time to correct. in four days when i go back i have to spend my first effort on correcting my previous times' mistakes. i want to weave so much. the warp i set up is only twelve inches wide (at most) it is only 36 inches long (at most). (there is a reduction due to the process). there is always a reduction due to the process. im imagining myself buying a floor loom. im imagining a very large floor loom in my apartment in my bedroom and it's pressed against the only window in my bedroom even though fabric should not see such strong and direct sunlight from a south facing window. that's okay because i only have a single loom and any project i start i must finish so i can start another and it's so important that i finish my project to start another so that i can create an excessive number of tapestries. my first will go on my wall my second and third and etc will be gifts. and the ill run out of people to gift to and i will take the tapestries i make and hang them on my wall. that's what tapestries are for theyre there to hang on your wall. and eventually ill run out of space after ... some amount of time .... measuring your life in terms of productivity is to sell your soul so it will be after some amount of time. and after i run out of space ill realize how much quieter the apartment will have become so i will want to make it so so much quieter. ill weave many more little designs and hang up more and more every wall and the ceiling and the floor will be covered in layers and layers of fabric, my own personal fabric. and from there ill be well this seems excessive and ill cover the windows too and then maybe the door to my hallway and then eventulally it will be silent. ill sit in my perfectly covered apartment and ill wonder how i ever had a single thought before. my thoughts will have become perfect and controlled throught my own perfect effort. i wonder what ill think then. it doesnt matter.