'One cannot speak anymore of being, one must speak only of mess.' - Samuel Beckett

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

The requirements of isolation

Seal me off and feed me through a tube!


Today I'm trying to get on peacefully but the world is just too close with it's psychotic need to expand itself against me, pressing it's noise and fidget against me like a limpet.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Appropriate coverage

The bear always says what he wants. He attaches himself to me with masking tape whenever I feel a degree of self deception overcoming my vision. Through the bear I can see the outline of possibility again. Afterwards I feel quite drained as if I had been a shamanic conduit for the confusion of others. I cannot be sure about this because after I remove the bear from my face I cannot remember anything. I now find that whenever I watch alien with Sigourney Weaver who I like very much the screen becomes very blurry and I feel sick. Now I just close my eyes and imagine the action. Sometimes the narrative becomes extraordinarily vivid and I have to go outside into the garden where I find peace.

Monday, September 27, 2004

The inexplicable

During the times of the bear, images materialise from my hand. As a child I dug holes in the ground, scouring it, barely significant wounds beyond the surface of the earth. Inside those places where I would sit sometimes for many hours I found a comfort in the raw fabric of the soil around me. My hand is always guided by this ground and at the very core of my tarnished soul the body has been stabbed beyond the limits of flesh. It's all I can do with this inchoate; to wear the bear and witness.


The interchange and silent communion between the end of metabolism and the journey of waste. The oral point of the great waterways of purification, the alchemical pore down which darkness carries our truth and abjection.