Andrew Wyeth - Above the Narrows (1960)
In Protection of the Tulips
Reposted for Sarah. Feel better soon.
Q
scornographer asked:
yo dogg how do you do the no fb thing because i will reactivate it the second i want spotify
A
Dogg, I had my twin brother change my password, then hide it in one of 3 identical black notebooks full of accounting data. Then I cleared all my data from Chrome. This way my account still technically exists, (still gross) but at least I can’t access it. Usually Spotify starts up without needing a password input each time, and if I really needed something, I could just have someone else find the password and use it. It’s essentially using my laziness to give me time to say to myself “Hey, I’m better than this.” I actually think I have an incredibly addictive personality, so I tried thinking of ways to curb FB as an addiction.
I have a sudden sadness that I’ve lost interest in heroes.
As an aspiring writer, (aspiring being the key word there) I think about what I choose to write and read a lot, almost as much as I think about writing and reading. And I recently realized that I don’t read anything with heroes, and I never allow myself to write my simple fantasies. And I want to, I guess, and I’m a little wierded out about what that says about me.
Now, I read a bunch of stuff that most people would call art. Classic stuff, experimental stuff, and a lot of the time I spend reading I spend obsessing over the craft of the writing, about the abstract qualities of the prose. This is as opposed to reading books for the stories they have to tell.
I was thinking about this while gardening today; a lot of thoughts come through gardening, I highly recommend it. I think I miss the stories, and I especially miss the stories with someone that does the right thing, or triumphs, even in a small way, or helps someone. I love the books I’m reading, and they’re masterpieces. They have triumphs in their own right. So I’m puzzled as to why I crave a simpler satisfaction.
I’ve always been called an “old soul.” ”You’re five going on forty-five,” my mother used to say. And it was true. I wrote a play inspired by the Coen brothers in 5th grade. I read the New Yorker in 6th. Bradbury and Orwell kept me company in junior high. Now, through some soul-searching I’ve come to question the origins of this overly adult behavior, and I’ve come to realize I didn’t really have a true childhood. I’ve only continued to cut out of my life anything that allows me to act my age.
Maybe my quest for questing and my search for heroes is my childhood seeping through the cracks, at long last.
I’m going to go watch some Adventure Time.
-WW.
Evgeny Boikov - Kinematics of Protest (2013)
A Personality Quiz and Existential Questions
It’s vacation week, and I have been very bored, so I’ve been filling out some dumb online personality tests.
I’m not sure if these have been disturbingly accurate, or perhaps they make my inner hypochondriac come out, but they’ve said some interesting things about me; they’ve told me what personality disorders I test highly for (borderline seems the most accurate, but schizotypal, avoidant and paranoid were included too), what famous leader I resemble (Che Guevara), and what political ideology I should hold (Anarcho-Socialist, which compliments the Che Guevara nicely). I also took a compatibility test with a friend of mine who was at my house. We had just watched On the Waterfront for a school project, which is, while a good movie, a little gross for its underlying anti-Communism sentiment. As Che Guevara, it made me feel a little uneasy.
Benediction for Babel
“E Pluribus Unum”
-U.S. coinage.
Over the blank page
I clasp my hands together
Seeking a lock of fingers
I have not known.
Accepting what I can find,
I begin my prayer.
