6 February 2003
Yesterday morning I fell in the shower. I'm pretty bruised but fortunately didn't break anything, or damage anything really vital. I landed on my left side, just below the nape of my neck and my right wrist, mostly. I am sore as hell. But I guess things could be worse. It was funny, when it happened, I hardly made a sound. Just a barely audible "oh fuck" as I lay on the bottom of the tub. Ugh.
14 February 2003
happy valentine's day
"We could die."
Delaney said this yesterday in the studio. I've been unnaturally preoccupied with death lately. I'm trying to figure out how I feel. I don't think I fear dying. I think I fear that I will never get to do the things I want to do in my life : go to Europe, take a cross country road trip, drop acid, that sort of thing. I've also been trying to decide whether or not I'm a good person. And what exactly is a good person, I wondered. What exactly am I doing with my life, playing in the mud all day, making what I think is art?
After class last night I called John from the cold, echoey depths of the stairwell next to the studio (since I can't get reception in the studio proper), and we talked for a while. I told him I felt like he must have felt in the 60s during the air raid drills. This is one of the advantages of having a boyfriend who was born in 1955: you get firsthand accounts of various important events in history.
But everything seems so out of control these days that I've just given up trying to be informed. I've quit watching the news, I don't want to hear about the run on duct tape and plastic sheeting and shit like that (I have a sneaking suspicion that those who are stocking up on those items were the same idiots who buried water tanks in their backyards in late 1999). I don't want to hear about color codes and closing bridges and tunnels and worrying about riding the subways when I'm in New York next week.
I was in Arthur's studio later on, and picked up a wad of plastic toy soldiers and just stared at them for a while. The frozen expressions and postures, the little guns and ammo crisscrossing their chests. And the sheer number of them, running and aiming at nothing. It was so sad and futile.
18 February 2003
Much like the state of my life, house and finances, this site has become a mess. Not that I'm sure you really care, gentle reader. All you want is the stuff that appears at the top of this page, which is fair enough. But I'm trying to organize this site, learn some PHP (and eventually Flash), so I can get back into designing web pages.
To briefly sum up these past few days, it snowed a lot and I shoveled a lot. I made lots of food and ate lots of food (what is it about snowstorms that makes you eat?). It was a good time had by all, and in the end, my car did start up this morning.
22 February 2003
After a long, soggy, disheartening tour of all the boring contemporary art galleries in Chelsea, at least I picked up something of interest. Check it out.
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