i’ve returned from the void as a summer special!
in my travels away from this weird so-called blog i was thinking a lot about self-security and how often i struggle with it, particularly if i have been experiencing depression or anxiety relapses. i have a lot of voices that block me from being able to do normal things, which are not only those things that people mention often like eating and showering and brushing your teeth, but the other balancing act of holding and calming myself internally. if i were to describe how it feels, i always think of a door : a really big timber door with wrought iron, like the kind you need a battering ram to open. everything comes to an impasse.
i think of the door a lot when i make art. if it represents not being able to get through to myself, or find reason, then i need to be able to reach a small resolution with it somehow. for a while, i was keen on making a text adventure game with a faceless protagonist entering a large house as the sun begins to set, meeting abstract versions of their fears once they’d passed the threshold. if the player faced everything down and solved the riddles, they could leave and enjoy a sunrise. it’s not an original concept at all, but i storyboarded quite far along the initial route, spending a long time designing the foes. it was cathartic. i may come back to it.
i will listen to simple songs when i’m sad, things with lyrics like, “i went outside, i looked at stuff, i kicked a pebble along a street, my girlfriend’s hair is blindingly shiny”, etc. because i’ve been on a new age kick i rediscovered mike oldfield’s album “ommadawn” which still transports me into a mystery land of rolling green fields and upside down skies whenever i hear the gorgeous instrumental layers. it closes with a song in part ii called “on horseback”. the lyrics are so tender and transparent but they hit my heart every time i hear it, filling in all the little cracks and holes.
i’ll leave you with a poem i wrote this morning and did not want to edit too much. until next time : always ignore the doorbell and check the soles of your shoes for spiders.
the single most understandable thing,
the memory of a day layered upon itself;
time marked by heat and the collapsing of leaves
as my feet lead me to you. that unstable horror
and hammering in my throat, and my tiny wrists,
which now i gather together, shaking and solid.i may have taken photos so i compare them
with one in each palm like i’m weighing the value
of something that could be sold or given away.
i like this one of loneliness, every bit as much as i like this one
where i’m surrounded by arms and gestures and words of people i care about,
who may very well care about me, too, yet i analyse it closely,
wearing thin and fraying with my eyes which are peering and still
weak from sleeping.convulsing with laughter or tears makes
no real difference. i can separate, and watch,
never wanting to truly forget or ever remember.
i press it all to my lips and wait to be full.