Looking forward to my lunch date with this sexy tupperware container.
Tuesday, 18 September 2012
Monday, 17 September 2012
Hey butcher!
What
s
your
name?
Hey. Sometimes I wish I could just permanently regress to my teenage self and happily obsess about things (fictional or semi-fictional persons/events) to a frighteningly intense degree.
The relativism, scepticism and insecurity of my adult mind can get rather aggravating. Sometimes I'm afraid that I'll eventually bungee back and join some cult just because I'm so direly starved for faith (in the broader sense).
You can listen to this song, because it's in my brain right now. Please avoid watching the video. I'm sorry, I really couldn't find a less irksome one. I've always loved the way the apocalypse and or general carnage feature in Pulp lyrics. I'm quite apocalypse friendly in general. I guess it's a not-quite-part-of-this-world-thingy.
s
your
name?
Hey. Sometimes I wish I could just permanently regress to my teenage self and happily obsess about things (fictional or semi-fictional persons/events) to a frighteningly intense degree.
The relativism, scepticism and insecurity of my adult mind can get rather aggravating. Sometimes I'm afraid that I'll eventually bungee back and join some cult just because I'm so direly starved for faith (in the broader sense).
You can listen to this song, because it's in my brain right now. Please avoid watching the video. I'm sorry, I really couldn't find a less irksome one. I've always loved the way the apocalypse and or general carnage feature in Pulp lyrics. I'm quite apocalypse friendly in general. I guess it's a not-quite-part-of-this-world-thingy.
Thursday, 13 September 2012
End of Estivation
Two days ago it was 30°C, but today, when I cycled to work, the tarmac on Bennoplatz was littered with the floury remains of chestnuts crushed by car tyres and the breeze nipped my knuckles and the tips of my ears. I saw a girl wearing a knitted hat, a parka and desert boots and the cawing of the crows had quite a different ring to it under a sky that now wasn't blue but approximately the colour of brushed aluminium.
Perhaps, I thought to myself, as I navigated through the oncoming traffic in Mariannengasse, I will have to buy gloves soon.
People are posting comments on social media sites, like: "Good weather, at last", no doubt in the hope to receive incredulous replies regarding their edgy and unconventional taste in weather.
Autumn seems to have hit the land, hard.
I seem to be okay with it, and the prospect that the library where I spend most of my time will no longer be sweltering and stuffy; and the fact that my bed is white and pink and infinitely comfy when the sky is grey and the rain is hitting the window panes; and the way hot black strong tea is always ready to be your instant comfort when you need it (a thing that only really works when there is actual, physical cold to be thawed); oh yes, and that there is an endless supply of free squash and pumpkins this year, waiting to be turned into delicious autumny soup. Simple comforts. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.
It is also a fact that it is much easier to turn oneself into a studious hermit, and to huddle, entrenched, behind stacks of books when the outside world seems less inviting a place than one's own study.
And maybe occasionally, on Sundays, the grey will yield to something like this ...
That would indeed be quite ideal.
Perhaps, I thought to myself, as I navigated through the oncoming traffic in Mariannengasse, I will have to buy gloves soon.
People are posting comments on social media sites, like: "Good weather, at last", no doubt in the hope to receive incredulous replies regarding their edgy and unconventional taste in weather.
Autumn seems to have hit the land, hard.
I seem to be okay with it, and the prospect that the library where I spend most of my time will no longer be sweltering and stuffy; and the fact that my bed is white and pink and infinitely comfy when the sky is grey and the rain is hitting the window panes; and the way hot black strong tea is always ready to be your instant comfort when you need it (a thing that only really works when there is actual, physical cold to be thawed); oh yes, and that there is an endless supply of free squash and pumpkins this year, waiting to be turned into delicious autumny soup. Simple comforts. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.
It is also a fact that it is much easier to turn oneself into a studious hermit, and to huddle, entrenched, behind stacks of books when the outside world seems less inviting a place than one's own study.
And maybe occasionally, on Sundays, the grey will yield to something like this ...
That would indeed be quite ideal.
Tuesday, 11 September 2012
Monday, 10 September 2012
Initialisation Ritual.
This is where I occasionally work.
These are boxes full of photos of pictures.
What I do is I split the continuous information of pictures up into searchable, verbal information. Digitalisation.
(Quick, before you miss a turn.)
Input Input.
Digitalisation means fingering.
Today: Manuscript Illuminations.
Kiss.
Saturday, 8 September 2012
Random stuff I write in the back of my notebook while researching.
You don’t really like discussing things, do you?
I wanted to write: “One thing I've learned is that I prefer working with words to working with images.”
But then I started to think about it some more, and I’m not really sure that that’s what it is.
One thing I can definitely say is that the way art history is done at my university, it is not something I want to pursue for much longer. In that comparison I’ll take the study of literature any time.
But it probably doesn’t simply boil down to words > pictures. Oh no. Cos that would be far too easy and where would we end up if I could ever decide anything?
All of you people knowing what they want – how do you do it?
I wanted to write: “One thing I've learned is that I prefer working with words to working with images.”
But then I started to think about it some more, and I’m not really sure that that’s what it is.
One thing I can definitely say is that the way art history is done at my university, it is not something I want to pursue for much longer. In that comparison I’ll take the study of literature any time.
But it probably doesn’t simply boil down to words > pictures. Oh no. Cos that would be far too easy and where would we end up if I could ever decide anything?
All of you people knowing what they want – how do you do it?
Thursday, 6 September 2012
Monday, 3 September 2012
In other news ...
It feels good to get some work done after what seems like forever. It’s just baby steps but ... maybe this dissertation is happening after all.
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