and furthermore, there is nothing left to learn. prove to me that there was ever anything to learn. can brand new hypotheses be constructed out of thin air? it is suggested that we have everything we need, all there is left to do is use and abuse experience to confirm or deny logical relationships between primitive notions. (surely we have everything we need)
there is something wrong with these plants. (they are not ill, they are in chains). there is something wrong in the space around these plants. the plants and the metal and the concrete and the plastic and the sand co-exist here. this is not wrong. this is still a landscape. this will always be a landscape. where there are no more plants and no more synthetics where there is only the sun, that too will be a landscape, just as paintable as a hillside or a pond in a park.
once in a while, the plants swallow the ground. most of the time, the ground swallows the plants. now the plants are public. now the plants are private. polarization has always been below the plants. the plants are expensive. i cannot afford to be near them. the plants are not generous. the plants are stubborn and i am so easily evacuated at the sound of an alarm.
“cruelty is a mystery and the waste of pain”
of terms of entailment of a point of rhetorical limitation:
oh yes to bite off more than can be chewed. a wasteful white-knuckled habit formed by a formal desire for less combined with a physical desire for the most, with a subconscious limit imposed on possible inputs - biologically imposed. (it must be adaptation for survival.) what arrangement of little objects makes this limitation mechanism so tempting to fight?
still trying and failing to avoid personal pronouns i find myself still swimming naked in my sleep.
portions of time which are greater than the sum of their parts are those most urgently in need of expression. for the sake of acquiring wisdom at the expense of these moments they must be presented somehow to an audience (of one, of many, or of objects that are dismissed as inanimate but have pieces of sentience all their own). the grand scheme of things is no scheme at all.
alex, new york city, 2009
i asked a man with one eye today if he had some fire in his pocket he’d be willing to lend me. he said yes and when he pulled it out it was all covered in american flags.
with all this time alone i’d write a book but i’m too relaxed. i heard that stress builds character and i can’t write even the blueprints for one. a life that isn’t my own seems too remote (and i have little interest in the lives of inanimate objects) this all looks the same as it did yesterday. perhaps i went blind overnight and the environment i understand myself to be in is only my memory of what it looked like when i last could see. see? i still remember how to conceptualize. what comes to mind is a conversation once had about realization and whether or not it is a real occurrence. do we have the capacity to realize or can we simply just understand further? i argued for neither side that it is a semantical issue but now i’m not so sure. with everything so quiet and my sense of observation both more keen and less adept i’m beginning to see it as an all or nothing sort of debate.
a new assignment; this time on anything but aesthetics. night terrors of terms and conditions i’ve followed all throughout the day: out on open water on a boat on a fishing trip not for compliments but for comparisons and conversations with common acquaintances who i respect so much. there is a naturally occurring underwater barrier between me and the cinematic expressions you react to. objective: to be whelmed in will and awakened with more articulate relevancies. evaluation: based on a biased understanding of basic natural tendency which tends to be indecent but nevertheless descends from the top of the hill to hearten your will whilst you climb.
