THE ART OF CONVERSATION

I’m currently watching and listening to Nacho Libre and trying to see it from the perspective of an ‘alien’ or two. If you try to do the same it will give you a fresh perspective. It is a comedy but it is beautifully filmed and I have roots in Mexico – I’ve never been but my Grandmother Conchita – her original name being Concepcion – is Mexican. Watch the movie. Hah.

I watched a terrible horror movie – perhaps not terrible and deserving of another watch – called “As Above, So Below” : when I meditated awhile ago I learned that our existence as physical beings serve as coordinates of truth. So while we might be beneath and inbetween all sorts of dimensions – for example Esther Hicks-Tarantino says that the characters in our favourite animations and stories are no less real than your or I – and when I had my ‘spiritual awakening’ – if we can really call that terrible time that – I realised that the archetypes in my tarot cards and every story I’ve ever read are very real. When I lived with my spiritual teacher Lisa she asked me to type up a document for her – I think it was her way of getting me to read it – and I only got to the second page. I learned about the minutiae of the design of flowers and how they mimic the development of a fetus from a single cell to many – and the significance in the numerical figures in the bible. The “twelve disciples” – “and Mary Magdalene” who had not been mentioned in that document. The patriarchy prevails seemingly even in the pursuit of spirituality and certainly in Christianity – not Catholicism so much, which celebrates the devinity in art and appeals to me more than Judaeo Christianity actually. If only because of that. I think if someone can conceive the possibility of an “intelligent designer” and the concept of a timeless nonphysical reality – that it is probably not of their own imagination. I think our minds attempt to make sense of that information by providing some analogy that we can understand in our individual languages and that’s probably the pain of the illusion of being an individual. Which is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be actually. I am okay with pain and I prefer that pain to the idea of being of one mind with people and beings who it is beyond safe to assert that are not connected to me – could not be as they are and be connected to me. I am familiar with my own shadow and my own known self and neither of those – even the very worst parts of me can relate to those people or beings. I don’t like to call them beings but I don’t like to call them people either.

I don’t know that our imaginations are not some pass-the-parcelled information that we receive in big bang static-esque residue as is present in the static feed on old televisions.

(When you speak to me profoundly and I go silent it is because I need time to think about it and when I think about things I go on journeys like the above and how on Earth could I verbalise that? It’s taken me twenty something years to be able to write those paragraphs.)

ANYWAY.

I’ve realised that both my phone and one of my favourite camera lenses has gone missing. I have not left the house with that lens and I know my phone was somewhere in my bed when I last had it. The idea that either of them have been removed from my room really unsettles me but I have a feeling that I’ll find both.

Here’s what I wore today. I was thinking of Khleopatra and Vicki Pollard. I burned the hair off my stomach with a lighter because I was too lazy to wax.

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My kitchen tongs are not gigantic, my kitchen is very small in size. I am used to a small kitchen because I had one growing up but this is taking time to get used to. If I go to sleep without washing up once, the kitchen is technically a mess.

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For dinner I had a pork steak baked with lemon, an apple, elder flower cordial and an egg. I also had some spinach and tomato and I’m pretending that is enough ingredients to call a salad but if the rules in Harvest Moon apply it probably isn’t technically/legally/officially a salad. I am going to go and eat the other one, standing up, and then come back to finish this post.

I made a scientific discovery today but also I had a very profound moment I wished I was high for cos it would’ve been prettier.

Here is a video I made about that little bag of flowering tea that I won’t be able to consume. Or maybe I should consume it because I imagine that these beetles have been somehow living off me because I don’t understand how they could have been living in pure darkness, without a source of water and without oxygen. Unless plants give off oxygen even in death.

Actually it is quite strange but not really, I guess, as to some extent, as I’ve realised I live the narrative of my day backwards – earlier I found some spores in some raspberries that had gone off and I’d never seen anything like it. I put the spores in little containers I bought awhile ago and I’m hoping to make my own spore-terrariums. I was concerned that they’d need moisture and oxygen but I think theres plenty of both.

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I have some inexpensive faux pearls that I found in a charity shop and I decided that the ultimate luxury for children would be a pearl abacus. I used to obsess over abacuseseses when I was younger and they decorated banks with them, and that sounds like it was a long time ago but it wasn’t all that long ago that that was a genuine form of entertainment to me. I am glad that children are entertained by computers and technology now, even if their imaginations are a little bit lacking sometimes.

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That is not a wedding ring or an engagement ring, that is just a little ring that only fits on the bottom end of my fingers. If I ever pretend to marry someone again (I have told people, on and off, since I was at least eleven years old – that I’d “marry them” and while I might’ve meant it that second I did not mean it in the way that people mean it when they walk down an aisle. If you want to marry me I own half of everything you own and you own half of everything I own and that’s only WHILE we’re married. When we unmarry I will forget you exist and if I unforget it will only be out of brief pity. Hypothetically. If you cannot say you’d like to marry someone out loud you probably shouldn’t marry them. I have a lot of practice saying things like that out loud because it is my way of saying “I friend-love-you-and-find-you-attractive-but-I-only-flirt-with-you-to-make-so-and-so-jealous-and-it-is-sad-because-apparently-i-made-other-people-that-i-didnt-know-found-me-attractive-jealous-too”

You wouldn’t think that a person who is mostly mute

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