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sundry
Rain didn't start 'til after I got home, much to my relief. That said, I adore wind, when there isn't rain inolved, so being out in the world today was awesome. It is absolutely my element, to a point that's a little weird.
When I'm in a place where I'm writing, all my characters get my attention in different ways, mostly with physical gesture, which of course is the sort of statement that only people who have a similar phenomena or process understand. One of them has taken to grabbing around my waist really tightly, and I'm more than a little puzzled as to what that's about. After all, my characters are supposed to be my security blankets and not the other way around.
There was a bit of scotch in the afternoon today, that I should have eaten prior to indulging in. In thinking about a range of stuff going on in my life right now, I'm sort of shocked at how self-protective I am. Especially considering my lack of internal-censor and general inability to not express a lot of things I shouldn't. Without getting into a discussion on the existence (or not) of The Self, this is very interesting to me, just because of the degree to which my early-twenties understanding of myself and my artistic endeavors was _all_ about wanting to talk about things that are common experiences that we all treat as secrets and viewing self-revelation as a right, art and obligation. And while I still have a really generous spirit towards those ideas, and agree with them albeit in a broader, more theoretical, you-don't-need-to-know-what-i-ate-for-breakfast sort of way, (also in a stubborn where's-your-great-American-novel-now? way, but that's another story), it's become extremely clear that I want people to hunt me down, and I want to lead them on with breadcrumbs, and I want them never, ever to win. Which is one hell of a cross between defensive wounded-child testing behavior, witty urban unpleasantry, and primal trickster hooha. That's a thing-and-a-half. For about five-and-a-half reasons.
In less introspective but still utterly surprising news, the bodega across the street now has the green Swedish almond candies that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tsarina and I are all about -- so they go in her package too.
When I'm in a place where I'm writing, all my characters get my attention in different ways, mostly with physical gesture, which of course is the sort of statement that only people who have a similar phenomena or process understand. One of them has taken to grabbing around my waist really tightly, and I'm more than a little puzzled as to what that's about. After all, my characters are supposed to be my security blankets and not the other way around.
There was a bit of scotch in the afternoon today, that I should have eaten prior to indulging in. In thinking about a range of stuff going on in my life right now, I'm sort of shocked at how self-protective I am. Especially considering my lack of internal-censor and general inability to not express a lot of things I shouldn't. Without getting into a discussion on the existence (or not) of The Self, this is very interesting to me, just because of the degree to which my early-twenties understanding of myself and my artistic endeavors was _all_ about wanting to talk about things that are common experiences that we all treat as secrets and viewing self-revelation as a right, art and obligation. And while I still have a really generous spirit towards those ideas, and agree with them albeit in a broader, more theoretical, you-don't-need-to-know-what-i-ate-for-breakfast sort of way, (also in a stubborn where's-your-great-American-novel-now? way, but that's another story), it's become extremely clear that I want people to hunt me down, and I want to lead them on with breadcrumbs, and I want them never, ever to win. Which is one hell of a cross between defensive wounded-child testing behavior, witty urban unpleasantry, and primal trickster hooha. That's a thing-and-a-half. For about five-and-a-half reasons.
In less introspective but still utterly surprising news, the bodega across the street now has the green Swedish almond candies that
tsarina and I are all about -- so they go in her package too.
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Mine just usually commandeer one article of clothing. (Or in Luci's case, many) But Meier has discovered my black coat, and he wants me to wear it everywhere now, so he can fold it around. I keep telling the boy what he really needs is an invisible helmet, so the next time Alex hits him or shuts a door in his face he'll have some protection.
Candy! I bet the little wizard will dig that.
Can I go home yet?
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I want to buy cherry soda and hazelnut butter. I don't know why.