When I have had a weird day, the studio calls.
Headspace is required to filter out, digest, absorb… then reject what is of no use to me, or to cast off those things that cause stress or discomfort. Then to accept what is left and move on.
My choice of music this afternoon was unusual. Not the sort of thing I usually go for but it’s been interesting nonetheless, and has had an effect, which of course, is what it is all about.
So…
Portishead, ‘Dummy’;
David Lynch, ‘The Big Dream’;
Slowdive, ‘Slowdive’;
and at the insistence of a friend
My Bloody Valentine, ‘Loveless’.
All in my collection, but I can’t remember ever playing them all in one sitting before. I now feel sort of spaced… floaty… bit trippy maybe?
Consequently I’ve done weird things with the drawing too.
Following the vague path trodden over wet grass by my poet partner Leah Atherton… I attempt to leave less of a trace… a softer pencil…rubbed… I’m not very brave yet… do I rub it all out? Or just leave enough so you know it was there?
When I leave, do I take everything with me, so you quickly forget me… wonder if I ever existed, ever said what you think I said?
Or do I leave a trail of crumbs so you can find me if you need me?
