observations of the real world
based on an assignment by poet marie howe
we saw some people on neocities (vashti, sarah, chey) doing this and decided to jump on the bandwagon! the goal is to document 10 observations of the real world per week, without using metaphor or abstraction.
week 5:
- (1/10/24) all musical instruments are acoustic. all clocks are analogue. this is great, but it has severe implications about the nature of continuity in relation to (english) language and mathematics. i hope nobody figures out how time works.
- (3/10/24) i have discovered that i am able to remove unwanted energies from my body by conceptualising them as a visual, turning that visual into bad apple, and then playing any touhou arrange. this allows the energy to dissipate into the greater touhou consciousness.
- (3/10/24) being in love, and having that love reciprocated, is a true miracle. being understood and cherished exactly as you are is so pure and so rare that it should not be possible. magic exists at singularities in reality.
- (4/10/24) there are many ways to derive magic from the universe, and i have been so happy to identify and learn about the type and source of magic that works for me. i am the witch of the undefined, and this feels absolutely perfect.
- (5/10/24) i may be high, but i now understand my landlady's vision for the evil colour she painted the kitchen and bathroom. it may look brat green in dim light, but in bright light, it evokes the image of field of daffodils.
- (5/10/24) a video is a three-dimensional song.
- (6/10/24) a fascinating part of being high is that it provokes tactile hallucinations in me. with some intention and effort, i can manipulate those hallucinations to fun and entertaining effect.
- (6/10/24) glory to the cool night air! it is so very beautiful and healing to walk within it!
- (7/10/24) sleeping is so nice. if ever you have the opportunity and desire to sleep for a full day, i recommend it wholeheartedly. as i was reminded by poets and activists akila richards and adriana lord at a poetry reading on the 5th, rest is not something that needs to be earned, you can just have and enjoy it.
- (7/10/24) i realise that my observations have been pushing the boundaries of what most people would consider to be the real world, which is probably not what marie howe intended with this exercise. however, i fully believe that everything is a part of reality under the great axiom, and this brings me joy and power.
week 4:
- (26/9/24) it’s damn near impossible to fall asleep when hungry, especially since hunger makes us feel hyperactive.
- (26/9/24) i love walking in the cool dawn. because it’s so early, the solitude is a heavy comfort - and if i see people, i feel a certain kinship to them, as we are both existing in the transition of the night to the morning.
- (26/9/24) there was a shockingly white cloud against the dark grey overcast sky. i looked again, and it was gone.
- (27/9/24) one thing about awaiting a package while having heightened senses from cptsd is that this experience is utterly unbearable.
- (28/9/24) listening to music that has lots of layered texture to it, whilst high on weed, is a fantastic experience. it surrounds you. it's smooth, and vibrant, and you just want to hold the source of the sound close to you, and become it.
- (28/9/24) the night sky was a crisp and deep phthalo blue colour, and it was full of stars. it was the coldest night of the year, since maybe february - we should stop acting like summer isn't over. it's hard, when everything is so beautiful.
- (28/9/24) our sleep schedule has been absolutely awful lately. either napping sporadically, or sleeping through the whole day in an attempt to catch up. it's difficult to observe the world under these circumstances.
- (29/9/24) alter sex really does hit different.
- (29/9/24) there was a vibrant purple-red-orange dawn that cast the street outside our house in a pink light, and though we stayed indoors and didn't see it fully, we are not at all upset. in fact, we are overjoyed that we got to see it at all.
- (29/9/24) heaven is a place on earth, and it's my room. i am lying down in my comfy bed with a heated blanket, and i have efir in co, and we are listening to its playlist. we also just ate korean fried chicken. it's raining outside, loudly.
week 3:
- (16/9/24) the conker trees in the city centre are bearing fruit! i took some photos of the conkers in the leaves and on the ground. they were such a rich brown colour, and so shiny-smooth.
- (16/9/24) the moon is full already, illuminant amidst the lights of the city. time often passes much quicker than we imagine.
- (18/9/24) the moon is rising up from the other side of the river, and it's a deep orange colour. it's too low in the sky to take a nice photo of, so i hope it stays that shade through the night.
- (19/9/24) wisps of pink and orange clouds are rising up from the western horizon.
- (19/9/24) the discipline, fluidity, and synchronicity required to perform as a contemporary dancer are immense. acosta danza yunior, whose show i watched tonight, made it look naturally effortless - such beautiful artists with beautiful bodies in beautiful motion.
- (22/9/24) chaat is literally so good. the blend of textures and temperatures and flavours is unmatched. i swear i could eat a bucket of it.
- (22/9/24) my dad got new glasses, and i'm surprised i noticed this, since today was the second time i've seen him in person since i moved away.
- (22/9/24) while watching a play with my dad and sister that i claimed to never have seen before (they were claiming that i absolutely had), i gradually realised that one of the others in manyface had watched it prior. the experience of this unknown familiarity was somewhat comforting.
- (23/9/24) i'm glad that i'm able to arrogantly laugh off a rejection to a poetry publication. i do feel a bit hurt, so i'm glad that the dominant feeling is confidence - even though i wish that i didn't feel any particular way about it.
- (24/9/24) it's incredible how happy i am, nowadays. though life is still hard in many ways, i really am recovering. i have never felt this good, this consistently.
week 2:
- (10/9/24) following the 48 hour artist challenge, we've been incredibly sleepy. i know it's our body and mind recovering from the days of intense creativity, but i want to make stuff now too!
- (10/9/24) i keep seeing unexpected rainbows. first on the wet asphalt, fanning out from a little oil spill. next, in the reflective sides of the cds we had as props at photography group.
- (11/9/24) as i wait for the bus, the chimneys of the houses in the distance are illuminated by the golden light of the sun. today's sun is going to set soon, but for now the sky is blue and clear, piercing and gentle. it's cold now. i need to start wearing my fleece again.
- (12/9/24) our warm bed is a nice place to try to stabilise ourselves, but the cool night air on our arms and legs, and the golden moon in its first quarter, and the rain on the hedges, and the glistening asphalt, and the swinging weight of the shopping bag in our hands are so much more beautiful.
- (14/9/24) someone showered recently, and there's condensation on the bathroom walls. the way light reflects in those tiny droplets of mist is hazy and soft, and quite lovely. we have already made peace with the frankly hideous colour our landlady painted the bathroom (and kitchen): a sort of lime yellow.
- (14/9/24) we had a haircut yesterday, and they shaved the back of our head with clippers - we remember that the setting is "number 4". the hair on the back of our head is very nice to touch and ruffle because it's so soft and so short.
- (14/9/24) as i showered, i remembered an applied maths module we took in second year of university. fluid dynamics. i wouldn't be able to tell you anything about fluid dynamics now, but i always love seeing the mist in the air interact with my exhalations. the shower is a nice place to breathe, in a literal (and figurative) way.
- (15/9/24) we have (or had?) a minor headache, and figured out that it was from being a little dehydrated, and so the peach iced tea we just drank was absolutely fantastic. so cold, so fresh - it felt like we were drinking a magical potion.
- (15/9/24) a new housemate moved in, and is currently in the process of unpacking. he lives in the room directly above ours, so we can hear him moving around. his name is peter and he's taller than we expected him to be. maybe it's because we're used to our other housemates being our height.
- (15/9/24) the sky was a wonderful dusty purple, but by the time i got outside with our camera, it was already fading. i made it to the end of the street, but the colour had gone - so i took some photos of the plants at the street corner. i wish i could've stayed longer, but it started to rain.
week 1:
- (2/9/24) the juice charlize bought yesterday really does taste like liquid jolly ranchers. it's bright pink too, which makes me wonder how much of this stuff is natural. unfortunately, i can't investigate because the label is written entirely in polish.
- (2/9/24) my best friend is so stylish! when i met them at the train station, they were wearing a denim jacket with loads of enamel pins, a short-sleeved shirt with hibiscus flowers on it, and orange corduroy trousers.
- (3/9/24) last night, i made cookies with my best friend, but we put them too close together on the baking tray so they conglomerated into a massive blob. the cookies also have no structural integrity and are held together by the chocolate chunks inside of them. all this being said, they are extremely tasty!
- (5/9/24) the rain was pouring down ceaselessly in huge drops that smacked against our housemate’s umbrella (which we borrowed for the day). there were about equal amounts of puddle and walkable sidewalk, so we should have worn waterproof shoes.
- (5/9/24) the leaves on the great big conker trees in the city centre are already turning shades of golden yellow, coppery orange, and deep red. some trees are further along changing colour than others - on the most colourful one, the colours seemed to progress like a gradient through each leaf, with yellow at their bases and near-burgundy at their tips.
- (6/9/24) the painting i made with my best friend is dry now, so all the colours have deepened. the higher contrast makes our impossible dual skyscape look much more dramatic.
- (8/9/24) though it was raining already, a bumblebee was hovering around me because i probably looked like a flower, or a whole field of them, in my neon florals dress.
- (8/9/24) my waterproof shoes squeak horribly loud in the well-polished hallways of the theatre. luckily, they don't do that when i'm on stage, because the floor is a different material.
- (9/9/24) right before the performances started, an older woman fell over as she was getting to her seat, and managed to seriously injure her leg on a metal part of the seating arrangements. the stage technician said she could see bone. luckily, the injured woman was in good spirits as they called an ambulance.
- (9/9/24) the rainy weekend has brought the autumn chill to our city. it's no longer summer - it feels like a departure.