Magdalena O!

I am going back to France this summer. I have to. Here are some photos I took in Belle Ile when I was organic farming:

my sleeping place for eight days

the north coast of Belle Ile

the broken bike I used to go to the beach with everyday

the blades used to make pretty patterns on the bread we baked

There is more here.

Last summer I went organic farming across France. I am re-discovering all that I wrote then in English among the French. Unedited ok.

July 2009

Discord in personality happens when there is a disparity between desires and the ability to fulfill them. Harmony can be reached when they are removed. I have no expectations for this trip this every experience is fulfilling me. I am open because I have been able to explore my desires as they come not thinking them through before they happen. The desires are consequences of the situations I am in thus they are by really desires but

Life? I am then in the moment.

Neurosis is a byproduct of the desire to create. But you must not let neurosis trump and make you impotent. You must reach it through imagination Anais Nin says. In the imagination we can go to the core and take the time we need. We create time in the imagination.

14:20
I am on a regional train from Nice to Ventimillia. The south of France is encased in a sticky booze scent. The train is a medley of the rich and poor and I don’t even have a seat. I’m trying to finish the Anais diary but the frequent stops fragment my arrival in her words. I drank a coke too fast. My stomach hurts. There are overarching cliffs with tropical trees at the stations. The south of France does not appeal to me. I have visited it a few times. I will be glad to pass. Nice is mote hecic than London or Paris. Maybe the heat. Maybe the anticipation of desire. Nice is a beast. I am exhausted from carrying my luggage up and down stairs. I have never sweated so much. It is pouring down my back and between my breasts. My forehead is steaming. Italy will be difficult too. I want to wear my new clothes for J. My Parisian vetements. Alas the Italian weather and all my bags don’t seem to mix. I am nervous to see him. I imagine him inside me. I have been so full other ways…. Yesterday F and I met. F so White. So asexual. He is working in the south with his wife. He is overworked. There is no energy to him. I don’t let him open. I am too consumed by being alive. He seems so grown up. I feel like a younger girl, a precorious cousin he met with to hear her self-absorbed monologues.

More France. All the ineffability. Pastis. Learning.

Genova when passing it on the train looks like Paris used to. In my mind of course.
There are giant ships on the shore. Bigger than any I have ever seen.
I enjoy the darkness of the skin and the shadowed features of Italians. Of the south. Of the sun. … I feel I live in such complete transparency with my life in the sense I don’t keep private friends. I feel this negates my private actions. I feel betrayal at the thought of not being entrusted with information more than actions.

Gunpowder will not burn of it’s own accord, but only let a spark come near and it explodes. – gamiani, two nights of excess Alfred de musset.

I’ve lost my ability to write coherently. I’ve lost my ability to express my thoughts coherently. No! Ha! Actually I’m realizing that I just cannot and have not yet been able to express what is inside me and the anxiety is growing within me. So, no blog posts, just 140 characters on Twitter. Language is giving me anxiety. I know there is other ways for me to get around what I am living right now, but I don’t know what that is because I don’t have the language to go there. I want to go to there. I really want to be a better writer. Like, actually, a good one.

I have been sucked up by a self-referential spiral and so I just think about words and structures and concepts. I think about Polish (my first language) and my relationship to it and then my relationship to English – then the coalescing of the cultural contributions to my identity that form based on those languages.

I keep thinking about what the most important things in life are. I dislike discourse on ‘lying’ because I think discussing truth is really complicated and often problematic within our cultural confines. To me, lying is just another fragmented truth in the cat’s cradle arrangement. Authenticity is more of what I’m after. But above all that, what I’ve really been thinking about is hypocrisy and how I want to work towards removing any hypocrisy in my life. Gah! Now, if only everyone I knew would want to all work together to eradicate this without a right/wrong dichotomous way and be comfortable in calling out contradictions, holla!

Would you also be okay in engaging with me about your on hypocrisy? Really? Really?

I have three photographs in the X and O Show put on by LoverMagazine.com on February 13, 2010. This is my first time exhibiting photographs that aren’t printed yet, so I have to get them properly digitally printed and framed and I’m really nervous because it’s expensive and possibly time consuming. At the moment, taking a poo is time-consuming so…. following is more things that are happening outside of writing essays in the next few weeks because why not?

I am going to be exhibiting some of my ‘future cinema’ work at the York University Augmented Reality Lab Open House Show next week.

I thought I was going to miss my cubic centimeter of chance so I got really flustered and made things a bit messy in the midst of all this unintentionally but I don’t like messy so it’s been contained.

Shitmat/Henry is coming for a gig on the 12th. He is gonna stay at our place for a bit on the condition he will cook for us (or at least once) because he’s always cooking. I’m borrowing a video camera from school again so we’re going to try to make a video and edit it all while he’s here. That’s my plan anyway. I think Henry is one of the most gentlest creatures I’ve ever met. Even among his constant hysteria and fits, he is such a soft cat. Plus he’s ridiculously talented.

I am VJ’ing at a Sensoria/Embrace collaboration party featuring Untold on the 14th.

I have also been getting serious driving lessons with my dad and last week I drove on Bathurst and crossed intersections in Forest Hill! It was very intense, especially when driving up Lonsdale I wanted to make a left turn and he got nervous because he doesn’t know the Toronto roads and grabbed the steering wheel from my hands to turn back into the middle lane and it was Saturday afternoon, so the cars were coming from every direction but I kept it smooth. After he saw me react with such strength he eased up and let me drive around. I gotta say though, practicing parking from the back is hard!