these photos were taken in real time. i did not move any of the objects to make the picture 'better' or more 'appealing'. that is why the photos are not very interesting. it was a relaxing morning after i started to ignore certain emotions that were prevalent earlier in the morning and during this past week.
my mom and sister left after visiting me for six days and didn't know what to say to them. i feel like i bored them and that they will think less of me now. when they were here, i tried several times to shift my state of mind into one of 'fun' or 'excitement' or 'acceptance' but mostly i felt 'enclosed'. when i said goodbye to them i felt detached from human love and crushed by the expectations of human relationships.
i listened to three albums that i really liked while sewing chapbooks
- Poisonous Times by The Old Haunts
- Every Night by Saturday Looks Good To Me
- Hold On Now, Youngster by Los Campesinos!
this is fucked up, i know, because that is sort of why i want to make chapbooks. i feel like there are certain people, maybe like Chuck Stebelton, who are motivated to write interesting and good things and to be a 'serious' poet, people who think about their poetics and what they write and read a lot and 'apply' what they read to their own work. i think this is what makes good writers, maybe. i don't know. but some of those people are not motivated to sit down for hours and wax thread and thread needles and stitch chapbooks together and send them out in the mail to people and blog about said chapbooks so more people know about them. i am motivated to do those tasks so people can read good things that they otherwise might not have read. i am part of a process that makes things available to readers that would not have been available without 'me', i am just not writing them, i guess. it is, maybe, hypocritical. it just comes down to me not liking my own writing in comparison to other people's.