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Ruminations – my last months in Toronto

July 5th, 2011 § 2 comments § permalink

Sometimes I so desperately wish I could be (exist as) an island.

I also wish that hypocrisy would not exist: in others and in me and in each other collectively.

HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH IT? Like, I am a hypocrite all the time, and the more I think I am not, the more I am. The more I try not to be, the more I see it and it’s gross. Ok, sometimes I am respectful and open to a situation and gentle with my own feelings and issues and those around me…and it’s amazing and I want to hold onto it, but then something else happens. Maybe I am not such a hypocrite, maybe it’s more about having undetected blind spots. I can’t stand it, I want this utopian ideal of self-reflexivity and self-awareness, but with that comes self-obsession smothering itself over everything. And with that comes my own judgmental weakness – watching people race past their blind spots. Slavoj Žižek, who appeared at this incredible talk with Julian Assange moderated by Amy Goodman a couple of days ago in London (which I watched twice over since), has this to say: “We feel free because we lack the very language to articulate our unfreedom.”

New rule: Do not speak unless spoken to.

Some mundane thoughts right now: I privatized about 99% of my Flickr account. My mother says my energy is more calming than ever before. One of my roommates refuses to compromise & in turn is compromising my cats safety, making me anxious to be away from my flat. I listen to John Maus and Dmitri Shostakovich incessantly. I can’t stop masturbating. The sun has burned my skin straight through. Nothing makes sense: Why do I type with my fingers? How come clipping your nails in public is so offensive? Why don’t people admit they love their own weird body smells? I am an animal. I smell my crotch and it is intoxicating.  I remember the slow progression of starting to have an “odour” to my pussy, becoming pronounced after I became sexually active. I love that every guy I have been with desires to keep my underwear. Don’t you love the coalescing of smells when you have sex a lot and you aren’t sure who smells like who anymore and you wage a war on who is taking over, “I totally smell like you!” “No, I smell like you.” I am going to become a Master in August, or more like I have no choice but finish this documentary or else I will fail and then die. I am moving to Montreal to have  “Dr” next to my name. I wish I could not speak to anyone. I wish no one would speak to me. People mistake my 18 year old brother and I for a couple everywhere we go every time. Less than two months to go.

also: “You give into distraction as if it is a murderer. You lay there, waiting to be killed. Today: fight for your life.” — Miranda July

Welcome Home

March 15th, 2011 § 0 comments § permalink

I came back home this weekend after extending my trip after landing in the hospital. Funny that I was going to Paris to “save my life” and it tried to take it away & give it back to me again /// A thick envelope in the mailbox waiting for me revealed my first notice and acceptance with funding package to the Communication and Culture PhD program at York (the program I am currently in)!

& awesome free things to do in Toronto that you should go to (I am!):

March 17 at 7pm / free / 350 King St W

The Future Cinema Lab at York rules! They let me do all kinds of weird experiments with moving image media.

March 18 at 8pm / free / 129 Spadina Ave

The Loop Collective presents their
Lighthouse Series of experimental cinema
Stan Brakhage: The Vancouver Island Quartet
(1991-2003, 16mm, 192 minutes, colour, silent)
One of the first-ever public screenings!

Where is summer?

July 4th, 2008 § 1 comment § permalink

Where is the summer? When is it coming?

Riding around late nights with the heat on my back. Racing down streets, tipsy and stoned, laughing, pretending to be falling all over the place. Falling all over myself. All this year has given me is rain and cool weather. How can I go meet my friends at 1 in the morning when it’s so cold and dark. I have memories of waking up in the morning after being out til 5am and taking tokes from my pipe to start the day. Riding down the hill to work only to finish by the afternoon to do it all again. The sunshine made it all possible, made the energy appear in places you’d least expect it. We’d search for empty courts and play basketball and pass out with our sweat sticking to the grass. There was no worries, there was just proof of youth.

I’ll be waiting inside listening to Ohbijou.

Where Am I?

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