| edged out 2 part 1 - 1982 january | work & days: a lifetime journal project |
[early January 1982] [Looks like first page is missing.] Enough pressure - sexual directness - to fight efficiently not stupidly and getting it done without it taking much - something new - money for work and to go - to not suspend and hoard, get through - being true to conscience but not in the most brutish way and knowing the polarities - finding the point of interest - bring the whole experience to it.
An image held. What is in it to be gradually entered. I'm feeling that everything I give you I have to take back, that's anguish, that then I can't say this, to say 'her' makes it nothing, wanting to say you. The dream was in a wrecked hotel's corridors, black up stairs along blocked by a door, into a room, a man there I'm trapped with, I get out, plan the escape with the small girl, he won't be suspicious until later, they'll go to the fair, small bundle, sense he's a racketeer violent with organized men, the woman and the girl have set out walking taking her back to her mother, it seems it's a long way, they'll be walking for months. He'll surely track them down. Sitting at the table eating. Trudy looking pretty in her room. At the table she worked at playing. Rhoda sat with Jam and looked at her with love. She was well dressed, her face looked beautiful. They made outcries about the food. I thought Jam looked ugly and like her father, she seemed congested in her presence, dumb efforts. In the conversation I couldn't move. Rhoda had cut me off talking about Dorothy Richardson and later she was contemptuous about the scarf and hat Trudy brought to tell me to go home. They were talking about parents and sex, from Trudy's mother. I had wanted excited ideas. I overbore on Rhoda the way I do when I can't. On Trudy too. It was the excessive loneliness. When I can't stand the way they are pretty and I don't feel any interest in their lives. I wanted something different than how it was, they being so interested in J's stories I know already. I would see the Orient charming them. Being ugly about Mary and how they lie to children about sex. I was in a rage. It was coming out and making them turn from me even when it was interesting about being crawling drunk. Then the shock in the bathroom mirror how old I looked, what had happened, the deep chill. Disgust with J, on the bus and at home knowing that nothing in the mind's protesting was real, a really awful self. Aching in the hips. Today forehead anguish. It's [sketch of waxing half moon]. She says polio anniversary but not yet. Maybe it was the small amount of booze and coffee. Have had liver? pains. Bad farting. It is the anniversary of before-last year's leaving. She's talking about how I was mean to her after the show. The morning and all day in repetitive anguish, cleaned the house on it, it is like a big lonely appetite for company and drama, deprivation. Yesterday I worked and knew I would go over to co[?]. It was time, bring the work, singing the --- places straight and the rough pla ces smooth. Imagining being sexually [sketch of a glass conservatory added to the gable end of a house] twenty by twenty. A movie being made in two floors of a house, set with furniture as period with Roy in London. Out the windows thinking where it is: it comes to me Mornington Crescent. I walk out thinking will I be able to find my way back. Garden looking at the upper stories I've come from, south-facing glass. Being with somebody dreaming, thinking recording the dream. The conversation with from behind small area image bleed-in black and white. In waking: this is the first time I wake up working (in a long time). Taking the camera along. A computer, how it's programmed (by what principles). What the computer can do disguising its wit (everyone). What consciousness is in relation to it. The area with the moving point. Projection its nature. She was on the run - what runs from knowing projection. Yield not-to tem tae shun That small image would maybe have to show through to another solid space dark. Teeth are felt as other. Winkler rock drawings, that paintings were women's.
"You're like a midwife who doesn't care whether the mother dies." Pain waking T had been living with Nellie who I took to be J for the six months unknown. Slush walking 6th near the corner coming near girl from the school, face in a parka hood, wide rosy calm looking, smiles. Oh who did she see. On campus sidewalk I'm gazing, long queue, large face, how she's dressed, walking looking down, her quality large intelligence, largely herself. Perhaps music. She looks up and I didn't stop looking at her the way I was looking before she looked, with love. In the bus the woman standing over maroon coat, an Iranian head maybe. She's alone and intelligent. Her Egyptian mouth. She looks back and it isn't me who's afraid. But she breaks, her mouth grins. I smile too and look on. She turns her eyes. The African in the back seat reading the newspaper held by the strangely scowling girl-looking boy in the corner. He's one who knows I'm looking at him when I'm not looking at him. The side of the face feels it. I'm sitting in the bus shelter. It's night. A girl comes with a man, she has some comb, band, that's pulling her hair tight back off the brow, a tight half circle. It evokes something Renaissance. Her fine face. Some slight color or polish she's put on it. She stands facing the man, his back is to me, she's holding onto his collar and singing into his eyes. She's in strong delight I know. The smile she sees over his shoulder, when I've looked away so our eyes don't meet, she knows. I sit in the back they in the front. When they come back to the exit door she and I are fully looking and smiling. The bus stops, in the reflection next to the steps they're waiting to go down. I see her looking for my eyes again. I hold away but it's only to be able to give it to her again through the window, she closest to the bus, and completely generous and fearless, the bus pulling past them walking this way, lifting and turning her face. On one of the side seats sitting alongside two girls come from skating maybe. "I call home, my mother answers, she says 'Who's this?' I say 'It's Lea-ann.' She says 'Who?' I say 'Lea-ann, your daughter.' She says 'Oh Lea-ann; I'm sorry.'" That isn't it: it cracked me up, she turns and says "That hit a funny bone did it" and then clowns on purpose and badly. And these [in] a melting slush chinook air. First after the holidays, their house. The little kiss lingered, simply given. When I first had smoked the pang came, I'm losing spirit, where's my spirit that I want instead of this. She could see me gone and asked. I thought I couldn't speak but I began. "It's the inwardness," pencil trembling. Then how did it come, two stories, Tony and Penelope. "What a strange twisted way you've -." A time disciplined. "But it's not that that you -." Oh gladly: "No, it's not." I love those stories so much. Awkwardly thanking. She saw the way our heads were in the doorway and that I could look at J in love because she'd given as she had and then when I knocked to say goodbye she was just sitting on a chair. Day after. Paul was coming down in a sweater my father was saying he'd changed, taken in the sides, it hadn't improved the sweater. Then I could see him in the sweater, maroon, very large to his knees, baggy and patched. He went for a walk far up the road. Maybe it was later or just after I faced the father shouting that he was unjust to Paul, I was in danger of being hit, but kept up, I was insisting he remember that terrified small boy under the house, that he'd jeered at and persecuted, he was just holding his violence, he said sometimes it was too strong and overwhelmed him, I said "Yes but afterwards you can say you're sorry." His face broke into tears, Mother was there anxious to comfort him, I touched his shoulder, one touch, felt it like Rudy's, the family shoulder, the touch on the shoulder, I knew from, that his body was my life's love, slight and deep. Lily Epp saying "You're very strong." I said "It's practice." Other side of the door her saying clearly "These poliomeyilitis people, they're --- and strong." "Helpless, woman and artist." Wall newspaper. A working style. and create for themselves a new personality by debate, action, self change. continually without pause revolutionizing oneself and as usual took notes on the heart-searching unhurried long talks which later became the techniques of political workers [book on Mao] Fox. Proving his medicine. Once again touching earth Cousin, what is your name, he would enquire politely. He would say it was they who made him, that he tried to be totally integrated with his own people. were taught the history; methods of leadership and organization; how to win enemies; public witness.
now became an epic, a series of marvelous exploits. The past does not return, said Mao. We borrowed doors from the people. The baby fell out and down the precipice and sank into the deep snow. No one could find it again. The children of 12 to 15 It is possible to live on nothing but a furious hope. A moral science No dishonesty or conceit is permissible. To think in a different way Asymmetry of contradictions Take these opposites as living, mobile, conditional. The longest political teaching movement yet tried out By criticism and self criticism, in fair combat, rectification Having orderly programs ready 1889 Mao Dorothy Gertrude When something is needed for balance I choose my balance over pleasing you and I do feel better. "I felt the same way but -." Vegetable crops in the rarefied air of the Tibetan highlands attain five to ten times the size during the brief growing season. 11-22 Without money, contact, journal, what was At 4 this morning in tension phoned Sara, Roy has been miserable - lay down in the dark, phone rang, no one, the quick answer, someone's there but I'm not sure it's her, I pretend I could be anyone, in case it is. Frank, Andy and Roy, Luke, London. Suspended life, no calls. I'm waiting for you. I am waiting. No outside life, the snow and Church of the Good Sh phe. Snow changed the shape of its tall spruce tree. The film of Mafalda. Something to be made of. Prints of slides. There have to be works, my works must show oh come back alive one, Winnicott. The art is almost entirely perceptual. - Moon - 'finish'. One bird. Grain. That human, even when it thinks itself to be exploring freely, is guided by a larger, that it transcends by merging into the larger, without losing its own history as human; that stars, galaxies, the universe itself, are visible bodies of consciousness in hierarchy. Visible bodies. A a a a a a a a I don't know what they are. Michael Fox saying the writing on Hegel was part of it better than anything he'd read - part of it - the writing - I said I would like to write but didn't at all know what I could write about. I'm thinking it has to be anything. The meeting at Roy's studio. [Kiyooka] Today and before it 'pain.' Most of the day I was occupied in feeling a stress. It didn't want to do any. Crossing the park looking at the park space, lighted streets beginning again there. The puzzle about states of disabled connections. Carole not - Zoe's look - wanting to look at and listen to Daphne. How she looks at J. Zoe and I buried the heart. Carole and D able to imagine how it will be, want it organized, R's girls agree with him, J stays apart listening, I smile at Rhoda. Roy's straight long shirt body, ponytail, boots. Everyone's boots. When the evening had been decided the way my posture opened and got taller on its heels, kept shifting. Then D across the room was more interested. How C looked. How J sat looking down. What was held off. Daphne, J, Zoe a little. Was not able to talk, right, politely to Roy, odd. "I was sorry to hear." He was odd with me I thought because of Al. Why am I one who always has blockades. This nearly three weeks without heart life. In the notebook worked through, the beauty of the happenings with you. What interests me is love. I like the real happenings and I like them best even without understanding, when they cross freely between what was thought of as inner and outer. Today at Cineworks painting, looking pretty, dripping black spots, unconscious, trying with Rick whether he actually senses something of his plants, but naming one Parachute Pete, an ivy, and stiffness of language. Last night smoking drinking brandy feeling the disabled mind not sure whether I am resigned to not being able to think, continual stop. I can't decide that - I can't know that - or whether the presence watching the calculator unable to work is a clear being that doesn't need the terms of those disabled calculations, that it has rejected the forms and is just holding itself waiting for an integration to let me think differently. Wondering abut pregnancy my body immediately felt the light come on in breasts and [triangle sketch]. Wondering whether what men are with me now is naked specifically that, and whether that's why I can't stand Paul/Al, because he gives off the scent of fertilization but is physically destroyed/unaccepted. The snow and realizing it was flirting with Don. New moon is ovulation. The futile pumping of my father and all the married men who no longer have children. It must make them ridiculous to themselves and her. The way it is thought of as sex when that isn't it, sex is the perversion of it. Not part of but still watching the sights. What is this man and this group. What are they doing. The canal, with its waterlilies and irises, and the fields of scarlet poppies! The countryside seemed to her indeed a children's land. Pencil ink and chalk Conté crayon Our instinctive need to have certain qualities present in the drawing having to gaze until that occurred Not being able to talk, sound fading out Needlework, driving Whenever the x is alive in a person, inventive, daring, searching, becomes interesting to other people, disturbs, opens ways
They may cooperate, work singly, conflict, one trying to do what the other does better. It may be each hemisphere has a way of keeping knowledge from Present at his own unconscious work Poincaré Find a way to invite the modes
Which hemisphere can do it better, which likes it more. Left is dominant unless it doesn't like the job. Unnamable. Navigation without reference to start and destination, point where one is. Says music fades out working in R. The eerie state "while consciousness of actual surroundings is also consciousness of the presence of fairies." I feel that I do not exist in time, but time in me. Sense them without response and later find words. The impatience of the one Developing the observer function What the I is like. You can talk to it. The slow intense observation that causes the shift. "Pure contour." R hem loving complexity. A tone. Hear at the end of phrases. Just time to notice. Complacent and urban. Am being flattered and though it's fluent there's the minimal doubting. The way in any work I am able to do I set against it something that makes it worthless. Yeah. If the work moves up I move up the negative. With complex sound or picture help by telling it first. Coming closer, singing and whistling. A bag opening. Local: 1977-1980. Local in Part.
[soundtrack notes for notes in origin]
Recurring musical intervals Frog song oscilloscope
JB Calhoun Becoming more human follows from a continuing expansion of potentiality, which can rise only from the invention of concepts that replace or are added to prior ones. In this sense the creatively deviant person forms our most precious commodity. In her absence each person added to the population contributes much more to overcrowding. Differentiation - after the one cell - of tissues Human is the attitude of there being something to work at understanding. some superconductors I found when I was asleep Condensation (pure and cooled, superconductive) A condensation where suddenly all the electrons pair up, with opposite or parallel spins. If you get too dirty you don't reach an equilibrium situation, or if they are not cold enough, because then the thermal motion disturbs the ordering. - When we do catch them young we find this holistic, this gestalt tissue, a broadly human preoccupation. Ways are usually found to deflect their intense, passionate craving to participate in a psychology that will make a difference. The schools throughout the world have been primarily sorting agencies using methods inappropriate to learning. The number that dropped out was about equal to the number of unskilled workers that was needed. Finding something. "This is where the gamble comes in." I was conscious the idea was there within me before it finally revealed itself to me. I can still remember vividly the clear cold air and the experience of walking through it and thinking, by god, it's going to come. And come it did. I was conscious It's a peculiar way of thinking about yourself and the rest of the world - that you're going to change everything around. I don't think I've ever recovered from that experience. There's an aspect of terror too in these moments of creativity. 9 February Yesterday lying under the leaves I watched them shake and listened for the sound of the train but didn't feel any tremour, thought it must be the solidness of the body. Tonight when I came home after and had lain down open legged in the dark, the rose color window at the Of one of the glances an even rose, angled square in the corridor. I felt the tremour. The body's thawed. Or the ground is colder. The man bowing over the (clarinet) formed Japanese music tings and ticks randomly from around the walls. The instrument's voice inspired me. I was on my heels leaning my head back against the wall, eyes closed watching my voice get free. I'm singing quite loud. I'll sing louder. It is dependably without thinking only by instantaneous decision coming interestingly out. The decision is position in relation, remembering to vary, long and short. Repertory doesn't exist as known, the parts just give themselves. I feel free of reference. When Maggie said beautiful I didn't like it, when Roy did, I shone. Opening my eyes to see the young man had come close was standing some feet away, facing the same direction I was, with an ear my way. Stopping next to him looking, he turned his long face up, I didn't seem to care what I said to him only to carefully look at each other. Still don't know why I talked that way. "It looks easy, is it." Roy's voice "You should do something with Paul." "You mean synthesize it?" Breath went on with his, "Oh it's long past what I thought I could -." Throwing his arms over the shoulders of those two, Rhoda's body like his now, "Well gang -." When she came in with her hair down the pang oh I'm in love with you why are you now - In the music room two tall south country plants, the silver telescope, lying alongside her rubbing her back while she cries, looking in the skirting board mirror at her face and my arm on her back. "Are you crying because you're caught again." At her face and say "Oh." She says "You too." I think I can go forward and love the one I see. I touch her with my eyes open. I want to hold her head and kiss her solidly. "If you let me know you really want me to go away I would go away." "How would I let you know." "You would have to just tell me in a way so I knew you had come to a decision that was lucid." "I think you're a sucker for restraint." The writing wind
She saw a burnt out shell and on into a story. I saw a style of line drawing discontinuous black outline maybe faint color in the body. I am doubting now whether she did want to be recaught. What she said wouldn't come again, wonderful eyes and touch. Was that why she was crying. "In the few times I've thought there would be a way we could - it gave me life force." "One of us will have to die before the other can." "I think your work has suffered." The finer structure of matter does not participate in the exchange of energy until the median energy has reached that pitch. Hereditary properties, quantum states of parts of a nucleic acid chain. The particles fall into definite patterns, the quantum orbits of the nucleus, the quantum orbits of the atom, the quantum orbits of the molecule, the quantum orbits of the macromolecule. One of the consequences of the uncertainty principle is that the more energetic a particle is the smaller the space it occupies. The size-energy relation Many of the particles are nothing else than the excited states of another particle. The systematics of all these new states is what I like to call the 'third spectroscopy.' Atom, the quantum levels of the atom; nuclear; molecular.
a field, or even some new thing which is as far from the field as the field is from the particle, consequently something new, but that embraces the whole. Why she keeps returning to that she didn't defy my weakness
An astonishing capacity for joining up with itself
What I would call conformation - the way these things are oriented, the way the whole complex lies in space and is stuck together What's the difference in the way it is touching - it isn't the meaning of touching that stirs, it isn't weighted touch, it's my body's hot spots turning on near her, felt it could begin to be (not romantic) composed. Originating. That twisting began a deeper welling, ah - - holding them there until the switchover - the job not being possible for tonal or not liking it - not being able to talk - when it has gone deep into untalk, to bring a quality of talk out of it - pure contour Navigation with reference to start and destination by feeling where one is in it later find words [logging notes in origin audiotape - includes reading Sound of the mountain and conversation with Helmer, Luke and Dianna, lake house readings]
I think scientists can offer to world political problems the values which are derived from work in science and these are values on truth. It may be that this is the basis for world understanding if we add the real basic values of food, sex, shelter and so on. 11th Cineworks. The mystery of how bizarrely awkward I was with Catherine Montgomery [of the Canada Council] (and then with Peg Campbell and Cari, not (but)('trouble' 'boring things') paralysis! Because of the feeling of the Council not liking me and that because of having been showing off genius artist bad manners. Yuh see. And have I sabotaged the tape with the beautiful overlay of spaces. Moron mind and this evening. I'm in terror somehow again, a racking. Disorder. Could easily do the budget but was disarranged with Catherine because I can't go straight. Oo how bad. Really disabled by indirection, I can't do it anymore, become sensitive (artist) or weakened by having been made unsure of. J to be told the sadness, being haunted by her crying. But it's better having said. There's panic. Rain on the garbage can noise. First part bleached green, a ghost is visiting the homestead A spirit battle with a father Summer, red and black, children, a mouse - Ah - ah - ah Bin glancing back to the time first here, for the sense of having built out from first simplicity still-clear connections, additions I'd come to slowly and was handling, having got technology to take me past where I'd been stopped. This is what. In a way broken-mindedness. These embarrassments like the person I was before I improved myself. Yeah, and what. It worries me and not. The systems I have been not wanting in my experience are the systems I found when I was ambitious and strong, to get me past where other people were stuck. To that girl, what do you think of this: an upstairs not very different from yours. That's part of it - (I doubted it, you didn't, irrevocable) Sound of the door, free bootsteps. Stinking acceptable person. - A way for its intuition to be there. What is its intuition. That I could be in a way it. When you were with me last night. I don't want to think in the way of safe placing. This sacrifice is self abandonment, in which spirit sets forth, in the form of free fortuitous happening, its process of becoming spirit, intuitively apprehending outside itself its pure self as time, and likewise its existence as space. This lost form into which spirit passes, nature, is its living immediate process of development. (History) This way of becoming presents a slow procession and succession of spiritual shapes (Geistern), a gallery of pictures, each of which is endowed with the entire wealth of spirit, and moves so slowly just for the reason that the self has to permeate and assimilate all this wealth of its substance. - Such early goodness is often a sign of vitamin insufficiency. I found this fine structural language. They thought boldly and carefully and simply. They spoke and wrote fearlessly and plainly. They lived modestly and decently. I wanted a beautiful body and I wanted it because I wanted to make love with it. - It, outside. A dissolved person like Artaud When we'd been love-making wanting and then not wanting to say: making love with you has been what I have been wanting more than anything. The way I have been dug down waiting has been waiting for that, if I can't have it I don't want any - The way that feels is liking it, instead I said that when I was six - for something that was myself originally, liking to be escaped from the cautions that built me. I was seeing what it would mean to accept it, knowing how to induce it. She could say take it easy. The middle finger stepped in (manfully) more briskly. They aren't suspicious of it, they love to do it because they can, they aren't ungrateful of what they have. "When she read it she was a little dazed, she was a little in love with me." Needing to stay asleep. The steel wire and very small steel square. Holding a note. To live with thee there - the one below it falling. There are small films with numbers. "The ice is like a membrane. The ice is elastic of a speaker. It is set over a bowl and attached only around the edges. I wasn't touching the camera. My heartbeat is transmitted through the ice." "Through your boots? You mean we're all the time pumping something into the ground?" In the small mirror a torso. Small hands stop over the ovaries, over the scar. Child's star hands. "No before you put on your pants -." A small plump torso, very little goatee. Broad limber hands come from the sides, moving oo, stroking there. In the dry hair the not visible only touchable, both who are looking don't see it but feel it, sentient morsel. The core is felt [sketch*]. It's already live and the already bright picks up tiny lines of vibration. It registers exquisitely the smallest breathing shift of your thigh, as fluctuation in brightness. Slightly ashamed of the level that's allowing us to do it but not being ashamed of how much I wanted to do it. The erotic of landscape. Flare. The kindled image feels the smallest flare (and comes after 100'). A sentence. The sounds taken out and drawn. About English language.
I kept saying to myself, the walls of this room are solid except right there. That leads to something, through there I can go through to someplace instead of leaving here by the same way I came in. Mozart so loved the human voice Constanza his wife who had a lovely soprano voice, the history of his life How attached the musician could be to a voice and how he responded to it with such passionate attention. (Cried.) and it is from within the heart of this pressure 16th The week of 7-14 full moon and period, and is there also a natural Valentine's week. Wondering if malnutrition is making me stupid. Tuesday. The others like each other so much they must see each other every day. Walking through her room looking. When I turned my head to look at the light box table and bench I felt a flick of feeling myself her in her room looking at her table. current has scoured the sand around the wreck. The surface then reflects sand more efficiently. - In the carelessness of walking around easily, and having no interest, from not looking at C at the window in the silver light, turned her face, I moved the frame quickly to have in it a white space behind her. The silver light and what she said, "It is such a beautiful light," not much mattering. She looked alright but I wouldn't care for what she said, she doesn't have her focused passion, and I don't pay attention, not believing. And not being in love with anyone, or wanting to though the beautiful and touching fine and interesting ones - "I love my friends but they are only my friends, and I love my work but it is only my work." "There was a time when those two things were most important to you." "I know." Roy sitting at the harp plucking back with his wonderful tensile hands, koto music. I don't quite see his face. Rhoda laying out her blue cotton panties where they could be studied from the kitchen doorway. Looking at them was nice but "I could have known they were Rhoda's (work) from the way they affected me." Is there something I should be seeing - the way with her also I care less about what she says, the way she's still inaccurately superstitious, and especially won't ask to know what she feels, and attend carefully less frightenedly to the meaning of her touch and breathing. the narrow range of exceptional perceptions conventionalized Without the sense of fright - no, fright comes momentarily, what am I doing in this emptiness. Hello Andy. That looks like a man defending himself from a diving. - Fran in the library without glasses, watching her speak to the librarian and with her face speaking to the book. Standing at the library doors on wet concrete waiting for the bus looking in through the two flats of glass doors: it isn't that I love women, I love lesbians. Happily. The way Trudy says hello by walking nearby bumping me carefully. Hotel room in Kingston, nine months eating out, changing the room, staying unknown, visiting Estall with a glass of wine, talking to scientists. The booted one with her friend's art in her office. New York. Her disciplined body. Having meetings with pictures and music. Being true and fine. the films. Luke in New York. Being new to find liked people. Students. Keeping distinct. The countryside. Equipment. A secretary. Legendary inventions. A sweet heart. Morning in the office with the journal and fresh orange juice. Is it the kidney that hurts. Not drinking. Thinking how best to invent any duty. Video record. A research assistant. Peter T as reference letter. Office screenings. Visitors. If you are too embarrassed to register your true looking, register your false looking in a truthful way. (Simplest intro.) All that is lively and deep. What is it like.
Bergman's interview The Sufi exercises. Situation immediate.
Desire (hunger) and aggression (fear) that keep out of the garden An experience of claritas - it is that thing which it is. The relation of the parts, exactness of placement.
Idios idiotes ones own, private person. That the mistakes in thinking are useful in a way we don't yet understand, and that can be understood when they're seen as a certain kind of code in/from a certain area in experience. "It is emergent" (not closed etc).
Da Vinci Columbus Erasmus More Machiavelli, Grünewald Durer Georgione Raphael Titan 1473-1573
After this Bach and Rembrandt There is under my consideration, in reading this, a sense that it must not be divided. Try for the phenomenological description. Use the models freely but return out of them. I have been trying to make a position: the raft. I want there to be deep subtle conscious momentary clear fresh language. How to live with the unconscious. His sense of language and his sense of plants are connected. "The box of the nut." It depends on whether you want to cut down on the number of imprints, I think. delayed its responses it's a sensation of time delay in imprints where you are anchored in the process looking for organizations of according to the locale flowing in and out of bedness That's like the light coming from the stars - brightens - it comes in I think we are going to get to it in the form of her. One being the navigator. Like the cockroach, three hundred million years Ground went into the water like a raft
Tree is opening and closing, separating and joining. Emily of - Looking out of the wheelhouse onto a green tree tossing, a branch tree parting and closing, mountains in the south lateral mirror corner. Pink and some dark blue. Some of the branches were holding hands. I was feeling the plenty of thoughts. It is a precious time. We are making a dynamo. You have to go down. I look in the mirror at a dead person's quite beautiful face. The eyes' deadness. You come up distressed. "It has changed again." I don't know what has happened but I know what it reminds me of and that it's the end for me in that magic current. "Rhoda's going to buy Schwepps and that means she wants to drink, that means she wants a slice of the action, I mean of this kind of talk." "You've got your orders it means. Alright." Okay here I go. Not guessing where it would come from and the obvious way to do it. "It's wild out there." "Wild is what it is." Handing out my pages is when I don't like it. She's going to drink with her, she's drinking lots. Her legs are pointed open at T. "Ellie is watching Jam's every move." Reading my notes in that voice! Why that voice, what are you. Mocking. "You're keeping two stories going." Second mystery, bringing in Robert so I was confused finding myself longing for him. And so what is. Will what has occurred behind me to 'balance' - And what is it like. A fucking machine. The darkness with brightnesses in it that came up like a hood. (Short circuit.) What Sunday is she taking away from me. Oh now I'm sad. Why is this grieving at a distance. A small person far back in that room. The word is here between the ears. Curtain voice. [sketch*] shimmer tungsten It's to pay back the way her presence is bringing me the girl's body some way I never had it, that I accept. Why are you accepting to stay in those terms. Why are you going to forgive it. Why have you already. Eagerly: "And what's wonderful is that I didn't know it, I was reading him so intimately I didn't know I was reading intimately." A change in the chemistry of the viewer (sees you as a strange fairy, "I know the awe"). "I want to try to tell you something. When I'm talking to you I think I know you but when I then look at you I'm looking at someone I don't know at all." Touching her seems to be a kind of bravado.
The worst is that the magic hour also falls into the contempt you know she contains, that's to give you a secretive intelligence I might learn. Another worst: that you're controlled by the family structure and are stupid apart from me. Neither of those is true. What was your consternation. "She gave me a look." "Balance." The fantasy? Whether our talking kept her awake. I move into the air in front of my face. Being in two places at once is how he's feeling it. "I got suddenly hammered from the unexpected direction. This is back to when shock of the not-caring righteousness. I dropped you publicly. I'm between currents." I'm saying: I knew all this and still was there and going along with it. I'm helping her position, I'm isolating my preference, I tried sex to bind her and then what else now. "We have a relation with you she doesn't have and that she would feel left out of." thrael thrill vibratory The machinery of social sorting, I do its work of delegation, and am delegated. Every contempt returned. What was in my arms was a pig body with an opened wet slit. The love of the fingertips on its back. Why are you apologetic telling me - felt something - disabled - I would be the mind that steered her flight - since speaking to her the pain is closer - in the lower body. It makes my time a waiting. The way on the bed lamp what I see is a large mother with a little animal child wrapped in one arm. The mother-man is bare-chested, the little child has on a tee-shirt. It exquisitely sucks away. We get up, it calculates beautifully looking out the window. Why did she clobber me. There was such a beautiful overlay of spaces. At times leaning forward intently looking. The times I was leaning forward intently reading her face. The times I would be leaning far forward mouth open listening watching the distresses of her face. They slide through the exposures. Sound of small movements in a place. [audio logging and section planning] Her world of references strange to me. Sat drunk-headed, took off heavy cap and sweater but not head in the chair facing. I use the self watching from smoke to weigh her. What I see is that she's blindly longing to travel with (them) but wants me not to go, is crazy wanting them and is crazy not wanting to lose me. She denies and searches, she's as I was about Cheryl. I feel for her and support her with my face and hand. She knocks back capfuls of port. She's simpling herself and letting me contain her. I notice theatre and real pain. I'm not forgetting Ian. "It will just go on like this, you waiting for the axe to fall. It will go on like that till we're seventy. Let us separate then. Shall we lie down and talk about how we'll really manage to do it this time." Ideal world with freedom to dive with anyone. Longing longing. I have to speak the whole of the most of it. Seeing that some of mine really is crazy. This morning I'm telling my sorrows. "I keep such a big organization going." Crying about Dorothy. This morning the way she was pinning me into my chair. She knew she had to talk fast. "Don't you know you aren't only one body now? Why did that make you pretty then?" A strange raw man. It wasn't him I was in bed with before: a strange rawly grieving and desperate man. Yes alright I'm interested to see you. I don't understand this but I'll look as well as I can. I'm pleased to be strangely married there but I will keep my vigilance. "I thought she was going to kill you so I killed you first." Hissing, "You didn't want to see them kill me because you wanted them to see you killing me." The faint light on the ceiling. Silver rectangle stretched on varied sky blue. The sky had opened holes between shaped masses. Agony of envy watching people read her writing. Grey pants pink-brown teeshirt. At waist face and feet swarming color. Is it a clay smell from a book. Coming through from a waste field, field trip, climbing on burnt spars. Inside and then outside the apartment making loops first reaching and then flying. Waking thought algebra to power describe the flight. In a camp gradually find out I'm cooking. A woman kneading a rectangle of placed beans for a cake. These stories that are reaching you long long long past their time. That of all the creatures they started out with they are extraordinarily protected and blessed creatures. Young men in a loose meeting seem to claim or like me. Their figures passing in front of me.
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