It was an interesting weekend. There were patterns on the pavement and I crouched like a child to pick at their seams. Unravel this, unravel that. Why, when there are city blocks for adventure, do I sit and fixate on the detail of one square inch?
There are mounting lists which outline what must be done. And I see the lists. I see them hatefully piling up. And in my own sense of helplessness against them, I let them pile - growing in anger for me because I neglect them. A small slice of control against the rising demands.
When I was in art school, we had one very unartistic professor. He taught a history of cinema class. One assignment was to write an outline following the emotional path of a character. Blah blah. Can't think linearly - never have. So instead of turning in a neat paper with a vertical progression of observations, I handed a sheet with cluster design - linking my thoughts. I had to re-do the work because apparently my thoughts were unclear and unacceptable.
So, I just sat down to cluster my thoughts about why my head is so screwy and why I'm intent on personifying scraps of paper. I wrote down adjectives I felt describe me. Every word was ugly. It wasn't a helpful exercise. I really wish I hadn't tried it.
So my office is stacked with strips of paper and all of them weigh 20 pounds when I look at them. I keep thinking I just need a good weekend away from myself. But I follow me everywhere I go.
Kevin says I need to retrain my brain. I got excited and looked that phrase up on the internet. Apparently, someone's already written that book - which is a shame.
I wonder if I would be thinking these thoughts today if I had a job that required my presence in a cubicle for 10 hours at a time. Would being a slave to the system liberate my pattern of thinking? Am I so squashed because I'm too free? Does having independence limit the spirit to what that spirit can dream for itself? Or is the spirit merely a reflection of the boundaries it perceives?
My vow for today is to grab one of my lists and do everything on it. EVERYTHING. Force myself to move forward, even if my brain doesn't want to come along. Take THAT, BRAIN, you hippopotamic land mass.
T.
