wildcat

1. Shitty day. Moving right along.

2. Low self-esteem is like this oil stain that you can't seem to wash out but end up staring at over and over again. It's so simple to slip into it, say something nasty about yourself or think something nasty about yourself. It's never a matter of thinking "Stop." No, it's "Stop being a fuck-up," or stupid, or fat, or ugly, or whatever. And it's unimaginative! I might as well walk around with a cabbage taped to my head because at least Dadaism is art. Half of it's biological, anyway; insults and resentment are easy, visceral emotions - when you're hungry or need to piss or whatever it's easy to fall into them.

3. Felt better after work -- I made a trip to London Drugs and provided myself with earthy, solid objects like throat lozenges, ginseng pills, and batteries.

4. Funny thing. I took the Ellison book, which is quite good so far, and taped the front and back hinges to reinforce them before they started to fall apart more dramatically. I can now fix books.I can tape them up and glue them and hold them together.

5. Met Christian at Dolce Vita and we ate paninis, drank hot chocolate, and got down to work. We talked my shitty day out without overthinking it and then got down to things. I wrote three pages which held together nicely, although there were a few rough patches but by the end I was producing fluidly poetic lines and a nice paragraph or two. The point of view roved all over the place and it felt very much like it was a warm-up for something else but I felt accomplished by the end and furthermore enjoyed the experience, which is important. I really do love writing.

6. George Orwell, Politics and the English Language, 1946.

7. Bee & Flower, Cyanotype. [Via]