I guess I'll start blogging again? After getting lost in the forum scape [reddit] something feels attractive about the hollow space of a blog. With every word, the question is posed: can any one hear, or is it lost in the abyss? Not contra opposing words to clash against, just the hollow dim of a random site in the world wide web etherspace.
Lately, daily maneuvers are saturated with boredom, the pale green ennui of a life un-lived except by the mechanisms and wishes of others. Even on my own successes and decisions and work, I feel a wooden track stretching forth, beyond.
Lately, I don't have an intense thoughts about style or art, although I have begot, consumed, enveloped quite a few new pieces of clothing into my wardrobe as of late.
What is my intention? Uncertain. I feel myself seeking an incomplete wholeness, like I know the approach is illusory but I want to achieve a measure of being "put together." How does one know when one is put together? When does the action of putting on clothing, the putting of separate pieces onto a functional wholeness, achieve togetherness? Isn't an outfit always together in sense, it unifies the bodily form regardless of the style, continuity, color scheme, embellishments, textiles, and on. The arm and the leg is connected by the torso, not the matching of the shirt to the pant. And yet, the second skin of clothing, the 3 dimension-ality enables an exploration of beingness, of being more than a flat surface, beyond the flat surface of our walls, streets, homes, offices, computers, screens, media, and the flatness of out personailities and lives. It provides a three dimension space, a space of coherance/incoherance. I think this comes back to the train tracks before me. At least with style, I feel controlled in a uncontrollable world.
At the very least I can create a log for my identity seeking.