Jiří Thýn, Best Before, 2004/2005.
I tend to separate my life not by year but by season. This autumn looks almost unrecognizable compared to last year’s, but I know that they are still interconnected in some way, and one could not have happened without the other. It was Anne Carson who stated so cleanly in The Glass Essay that she could feel past days “running underneath this one like an old videotape.” I am part here and part where I was at this point in my life last year. In a week’s time I will travel back home to the East coast and meet nostalgia I can hold in my hands. This is what I am thinking about this week. That, and the idea that it is not my home anymore, but feels like the most true place in my mind in a lot of ways, through childhood and awkward adolescent remembrances. I don’t know if where I am now is where I can see myself long term. I am thinking about what it means to return, breaking down the word and feeling its weight.
Some images and sounds on my brain:
Herbert List, Lake Lucerne, Switzerland (1936). Gelatin silver print.
Jenny Holzer, Truisms (Spanish), 1979.
A Daniel Silver piece for Document Journal shot by Chloé Le Drezen.
By Chloe Le Drezen for Rika Magazine.
Flowers In Water by Alexander Kilian.
Lover’s Spit (Redux featuring Leslie Feist) by Broken Social Scene.
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