i’m back !

headline:
Lygia Clarke show in Kunsthaus Zürich kicks ass

Lygia Clarke:
– Brazilian but lived in europe for a long time
– associated with neo-concretism and tropicalia
– started out as a painter, moved into sculpture, then ‘propositions’ which are like fluxus scores
– later quit art and became a (somewhat like) a therapist

the show:
half paintings and half actions. i touched everything that was touchable and it was more meditative than gimmicky

visitors:
looked like we could be pals, which is always nice

from last week

hours differ, but minutes and seconds are the same everywhere.

when it’s sunday, it’s sunday worldwide. unless a neighbouring day bleeds in. but no one is doing a thursday on a sunday.

my [bastard] neighbours put on their [bloody] music at 9am on saturday. in response, i politely knock on their door and cry in their faces for 1 min 45 sec. the music quiets.

i return to my flat and calm down. then i do my makeup and rummage around for a memory of a positive mindset. i find the memory and try to enact it.

Harriet from spareroom confirms my room viewing next week, and that is just fantastic, excellent, lovely news. Harriet puts an ‘x’ at the end of her message. x

i toast some fresh bread and fry an omelette, which should be enough calories for a couple hours. while i eat i go over how much my life crapped out in the last couple years. (have i died and gone to hell?) then i put on a nice outfit and go central.

in a cafe at the national theatre an american grandma chats to some kids about uni. i try to think about my essay assignment before taking off to see a film.

the film i go to see is about Lola Montez. no one dies in it. there isn’t very much sex or nudity either. i wonder if it’s a family-friendly edit. still, it’s a very good film.

then it’s a social night. i chat to:
– some twenty year olds who think i’m one of them
– a guy who comes up with minute detail on any obscure topic while avoiding eye contact
– a commanding lady with glazed lips and pointy eyeliner
– a fellow curating student who wants to pivot into film
– an australian who reminds me of another australian i used to know
and many others

i go home feeling good, and i hold on to that feeling. talking to people who are both interested and nice to you is very important. next year will be all about people.

maybe i’ll put out some sort of an open call for a partner. but this time, instead of dating apps, it’ll be on Creative Access. or maybe skip that and find a witch who can un-curse me (or even just hang out).

but first, move far far away from my neighbours’ stereo.

bobo as in bubble tea?
no, bobo as in bourgeois-bohemian

gods of employment really came through, though: the work is nice, the team is great, the space is lovely. during working hours, i can feel depression leaving my body.
it’s only been four days, but i think this is actually how work’s supposed to be. not regretting every second of being there and all.

thankyou thankyou gods of employment. nice one

vibe check

with 2026 fast approaching, i think we really need to stop hating on years. it was kind of fun for a while, but come on.

years are just time. time is made of physics (or something). you can’t blame your problems on physics (or something).

what is this xenophobia against time?

i mean yes, technically it’s punching up, because time is a lot more powerful than us, and it neither cares nor gets offended.

but what if it does? we still don’t know enough about black holes to be messing with it all. maybe black holes are online

maybe they’re on social apps and reading this as i write

maybe they already met ai and merged in, and are actually quite offended of how unappreciative we are of all their hard work that keeps the time going


tldr: years are cool

and let’s not mess with the space/time continuum

Altoona Tribune, Pennsylvania, January 7, 1939

ok this runs deeper than i thought, perhaps a sign of times