Tag Archives: change


sanctum (sanctums, sancta): A place of inviolable privacy

Inviolable privacy – I like the sound of that. I was watching another film and making various connections. This has become my new past-time and it gives me great pleasure. I don’t want to review the film but I do want to deconstruct the experience of that film within the context of my recent interests.

A small disclaimer here is relevant – especially since some people have decided that I blog entirely for their pleasure. So, you weird, insecure humans, this is NOT for you but for people who are actually interested in reading what others have to say without being pushy about their own opinions about religion, sex and morality. You are not welcome here. Or in my presence either. I’m too old and bored to endure your blather.

I probably responded to the idea of a sanctum based on recent events. My privacy is often violated on many pretexts – and this annoys me beyond measure. Have I been so permissive? Do I belong to the world? Do I exist just to improve the lives of others or to give them pleasure? Violation makes me angry. It makes me very, very angry. I need to think about a way to rectify this annoying situation.

Coming back to the film – it wasn’t just it’s name that interested me but also it’s insistence on giving in to a situation and letting it tell you what to do. The idea that some situations call for a different approach to ideas of morality and ethics is very interesting. And that got me through this film. It also reminded me of my annoyance with rigid ideas and regurgitated opinions based on those ideas. How boring! The same thing repeated over and over until it’s just meaningless. Does not fucking compute, you know? I do not need to see the world in just one prescribed way. Must I be bored as well as permissive?

I Used to Art, too; or, I Art Some More

December 12 (many years ago)

the simple truth

shine on. with wild imaginings. what do i need? i reach for myself in the end. there can be nothing more or less. such safety in a number. how long does it last? i have no answers. not now. tomorrow maybe. or the next day. or the next. there is peace in here right now. no more tears. just like baby shampoo. the fly in my eye fluttering my lashes. where does it begin? where does it end? can the hours in a day measure my heart strings? the stars won’t fade away. i wear my sleeve on my heart. twiddle dee twiddle dum.
I wear my sleeve on my heart. Indeed, nobody likes a cry-baby. Nobody.

Can you stand a cry-baby?

And here I am again, contemplating and generally wasting time. Can art be made like this? I art and art and what do I get? Tragic honeys and old-school grouches. Bah. Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right…
August 13 (also many years ago)


actually, i always liked silence.
what happened to me? how does anything change? or anyone. sometimes i wonder about where i started being me. i know it was a long time ago. but i liked silence. now i am frightened by it. i need more time to sort myself out. then – maybe – there will be clarity.
Does anything change?

Sucker (Has Anything Changed?)

Too much silence can suck the noise out and leave nothing behind. Choices, choices. There are just too many damn choices. None of this is making any sense. I haven’t slept in too long because I am afraid – of the dark, of the quakes, of sleeping.

And now nothing makes any sense. Look what I have done!