thesis
The “idea” isn’t a finished product with identifiable boundaries that one moment sprung into being—one of the reasons artists so hate the interview question, “So what was your inspiration for this?” Any idea is actually an unstable, shifting intersection between myself and whatever I was encountering. By extension, thought doesn’t occur somehow ins
... See moreJenny Odell • How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy
eigenrobot • the map is of the territory
“A multiplicity of pores, or blackheads, of little scars or stitches. Breasts, babies, and rods. A multiplicity of bees, soccer players, or Tuareg. A multiplicity of wolves or jackals ... All of these things are irreducible but bring us to a certain status of the formations of the unconscious.”
(Deleuze & Guattari)
Prentis defines embodiment as “the awareness of our body’s sensations, habits, and the beliefs that inform them. Embodiment requires the ability to feel and allow the body’s emotions. This embodied awareness is necessary to realign what we do with what we believe.”
Brené Brown • Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience
FRAGMENT UIT SELF-PORTRAIT IN A CONVEX MIRROR
The balloon pops, the attention
Turns dully away. Clouds
In the puddle stir up into sawtoothed fragments.
I think of the friends
Who came to see me, of what yesterday
Was like. A peculiar slant
Of memory that intrudes on the dreaming model
In the silence of the studio as he considers
Lifting the pencil to
... See more“We are splinters and mosaics; not, as they used to hold, immaculate, monolithic, consistent wholes.”
Virginia Woolf
Cortney Cassidy • A soft manifesto
“In nature, a whole encloses the parts, and yet a larger whole encloses the whole enclosing the parts. By enlarging our field of view, what is thought of as a whole becomes, in fact, nothing more than one part of a larger whole. Yet another whole encloses this whole in a concentric series that continues on to infinity.”
(Masanobu Fukuoka)
Still in the published city but not yet
overtaken by a new form of despair,
I ask
the diagram: is it the foretaste
of paint
it could so easily be? Or an emptiness
so sudden it leave the girders
whanging in the absence of wind,
the sky milk-blue and astringent?
We know
life is so busy, but a larger activity
shrouds it, and this is
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