sat/20220305

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Finally making sense of what I'm doing here, the form of this thoughtspace/stream being a cacophony of non-sequitur panel transitions/collisions hurled into it throughout the day with occasional allowances for aspect-to-aspect transitions maybe.

Plans to attempt evening work fell victim to a hypoglycemic bout during the day's run and resultant superhighbloodbounceball status throughout the day which rendered me an inert mess... trying going back after breakfast instead. Though I’m not a huge fan of jamming everything into the morning, I’m generally convinced that it’s the best way forward: it’s the one time of day that I’m all but guaranteed to have to myself thus making me the primary cause of any and all potential failure.

I am awash in wonderful Ukrainian music.

EarBliss0004 (Ukraine edition)

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Update/20220305: A post at Ambientblog made me aware of PLACES FOR PEACE, a four-hour+, name-your-own-price compilation from Home Normal, a Brighton-based ambient label: while the compilation is not comprised of Ukrainian musicians, all profits from the release go to UNICEF’s 'Donate to Protect Children in Ukraine' fund. I’ve added the embed below.

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Huge thanks to Michael Donaldson’s must-read 8Sided Blog for pointing me in A Closer Listen’s direction: they’ve provided a marvelous resource of Ukrainian musicians on Bandcamp and, as it’s Bandcamp Friday, all proceeds go to the musicians. First group of purchases:

fri/20220304

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A fantastic (second) chat last night with Wallace Stroby (HEAVEN'S A LIE) on my favorite film of all time, Sergio Leone's ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST: spending the whole of yesterday watching, processing, and discussing Leone's masterwork was beyond wonderful (and a more than pleasant way to avoid the nightmarish war crimes unfolding at the Zaporihzia plant), the goal of the chat (or of any of my conversations about things I've enjoyed), to see something I love through someone else's eyes, was more than accomplished. Planning to continue doing these sorts of conversations.

Settling into the recognition that it's OK to switch to another project when forward movement grinds to a halt on the primary: all too often, the missing pieces in the path –  small assignments, usually – emerge while toiling on something else. Pondering: is being stuck on something as much a cue that you need to move on to something else and let your subconscious take over as it is to dig in your heels and stick with it? Yes, I think so – the trick to figure out which one it is. About 70% sure I made the right choice to fiddle with another short story while I push through on assembly of last night's TSR chat. Aiming to play with different rhythms on this one, which get to the heart of what these Modulae are: experimental narrative etudes (composed over a set period of time?) by which to explore things the Main Work precludes – or at least doesn't require, yet.

Greatly enjoyed doing the chat in the evening: I've decided that most of my conversations will take place then. Also considering moving my second block of writing to evenings as well – though, given that I'm awake at 0445 and will, by the time evening rolls around, have put in a 14-hour day (of my various roles, writing and non–), to discount the possibility that my reserves might be depleted would be folly; on the other hand, my inability to overthink (or think deeply, two wildly different things) on other side of the day's Novolog might make it the perfect time to dig back in / my body/schedule is a lab experiment.

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Spent 14 hours with my favorite film of all time today. Could do worse.

ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST (1968): directed by Sergio Leone from a script by Leone and Sergio Donati based on an original story by Leone, Dario Argento, and Bernardo Bertolucci. Starring Claudia Cardinale, Henry Fonda, Jason Robards, Charles Bronson, and Gabriele Ferzetti. Released 20 December 1968.

wed/20220302

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Past few days being ones of internal discord and a growing sense, correctly or in–, that my mornings here, writing in the Sanctum, are little more than an act of pretend, a self-sanctioned adult iteration of waking up early to play with my action figures under blankets during my late-single/early double digits before the reality of life in this place – this backwoods hell – snuck in, a reality of life I sought to escape in my teens recycling itself in a groundhogday clusterfuck day in and day out in my forties that dangles the reasons why I left in the first place like a broken cat toy on a frayed string, the only difference – other than my age, my marriage, and aforementioned dogs pictured – between then and now being that, back then, I could see a light at the end of the tunnel: I could see my escape.

But then again, it's my choice whether or not to bat at the frayed cat toy – and I have been, of late, making the wrong choice. And let's be honest: it's not like I'm going anywhere – I like being married, I like the dogs (oh, the complications) – but I do recognize the need to, as my therapist advised in the pre-backhoe years, "shake things up" – precisely how being a mystery since the day he prescribed it.

(Thanks a lot.)

Meanwhile, in "extricate your head from your ass and have some perspective" news: KYIV, author Yevgenia Belorusets's daily chronicle of her life during Putin's atrocity, is being published daily by isolarii and is a must-read.

Random workthought: if ever you happen to find yourself working on two not dissimilar projects at once, combine them: you might find something you didn't know you were looking for. You might also injure your forehead when you smack yourself for failing to see it, it being the answer to the sticky above your monitor, WHAT AM I NOT SEEING?.