A thicket of index cards and a clipping of Max Ernst’s Loplop

And what does reinvention look like? I suppose it starts with giving up plans and letting go of ideas. But my brains are too mushy for that today. Added 34 new words to my book and shuffled through index cards with cryptic notes that I no longer understand even though the handwriting is mine: Sundown Motel, aural destabilization, and a frightening Max Ernst bird. So I kept refreshing the news as if I might find clues for how to proceed.

Watched the Senate hearings about the pandemic and the optics were science-fictional: a dozen senators sat along the edges of the room at tables draped in black cloth. A robotic camera panned and zoomed. Other senators and health officials teleconferenced into the scene, their faces intermittently scrambled, their voices delayed. Yet some senators insisted that everything was just fine.

Someone down the hall has been practicing “New York, New York” on their piano for the past hour, and it’s absolutely beautiful because they’re so bad but determined.

Emeralds – Does It Look Like I’m Here?

Does It Look Like I’m Here | Editions Mego, 2010 | Bandcamp
Each night in 2020, I wrote a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I wanted to etch these days into my memory. Before the world changed completely.
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Meanwhile, I keep forgetting the screen is a tool, not an environment.
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