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What happened to all the moments in between? Surely in their darkness they hold the key to all this. Or have I truly moved from one scene to the next as though through a portal? Where do we go when we’re inside a portal? Where are we when we’re in between? We are liminal people,… Continue reading Journal Sequence #7: Liminal People
I found my soul today. [Back to Land by Wooden Shjips plays] Oh, when that fog clears. It’s just… The stink is gone. The stink is GONE. Long, sharp acrylic nails painted sapphire blue. Rings on fingers, bangles on wrists. Curling, twisting, dancing. Embodying the freedom. Forwards backwards outwards inwards. And I see the fire… Continue reading Journal Sequence #6: Intended Viewer [Stink is Gone]
“The chief enemy of creativity is good sense.” – Pablo Picasso. I mused on Twitter about having started three books, read half and stopped, even though they were good books. I got this response: “Because you get your fill of style from it and have a good time communicating with that writer and then you… Continue reading Sense(making)
1. Retreat into a comfortable mental zone. Maybe one layer down. Think of a tree. A single trunk from which all branches grow. Sturdy, Dependable. Organic. 2. The towers stretching into the sky – human constructs – now gone. Melted away and replaced with visions of an unbound realm. 3. Escape from Space. Threads floating… Continue reading Journal Sequence #5: Notes from Hypnogogia
He hated the spectre-creating machine. It was like the other: wild, rough. It made him sick. But where there is a weapon, man will use it. Where a man hurts, he will seek. Through a tube the egos turned into colours showing their relentless and eternal state of emergency. Humans are perfect green. A green… Continue reading Cut-up Sequence #2: Remixing Mind [The Letter M]
I’m fascinated by pareidolia. The way we are primed for spotting the familiar in the alien, the meaning in the senseless, the pattern in the random. The way we may or may not see the same things, like faces in froth or ponies in clouds, depending on our subjective experiences and values. Nature’s Rorschach test.… Continue reading Writing Pareidolia
I “If you are not able to imagine you will not be able to thrive.” Girija Kaimal But it’s [deep] midnight, and the waters are lapping at the shore. There’s moonlight. Possibly a boat, but no rescue. Calm, but not serene. Infinite, doomful wisdom. Torrential rain and howling wind, I crouch in my hut. I… Continue reading Travelogue #1: Transparent Woman [Early Photographs of the Moon]
As I writhed in a pool of tears, and blood dripped from two fresh wounds in my arm, my best friend looked me in the eye and said: you can’t keep doing this. It was the end of our friendship in the sense that our symbiosis would never be the same, but it was those… Continue reading Journal Sequence #4: Minor Fractal Loops [You Can’t Keep Doing This]
I’m in a metal box. It’s raining outside, maybe. No one is coming. Not ever. Sleep provides a refuge in which the mind becomes one with its [our] habitat. I must emerge in my dream because The Jewel is coming. I buzzed her in. Soon she’ll enter through my hotel window. I selected her from… Continue reading Cut-up Sequence #1: Our Hammer/Still Moving
1. Writing about a writer is cliché. 2. Too many novels start with a journey. 3. Dreams and flashbacks are lazy plot devices. 4. Elaborate prose presented as monologue is self-indulgent. 5. Philosophy should be hidden, not overt. 6. So fucking what. 7. You fall out of one overused trope and into another. 8. You… Continue reading Hybrid [Manifesto]
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