RISD: Edna Lawrence Nature Lab
06.14.13
Such an incredibly amazing place, my goodnesssss. The lab is filled with beautifully preserved animals, insects, fossils, skeletons, etc. It has the feeling of a 19th Century naturalist’s study. You could imagine a fabulously dressed Darwin walking through the door at any moment. People come and go as they please, pick out specimens and study them. I think it must be Audubon heaven.
Cafebrería El Péndulo @ Condesa, Mexico City
“Siempre imaginé que el Paraíso sería algún tipo de biblioteca.”― Jorge Luis Borges
06.13.13
I can hardly wait to visit this place! August, if all goes well. I miss my dad terribly and I think leaving town for a while will do me good. I hope to take up painting again, sometime this week, something has happened to my hands because I find myself unable to draw. On another note, I finished reading a book about the history of Jazz. Fry’s had a CD sale and I got Mingus Ah Um, Thelonious Monk and Eric Dolphy for about $5 each. It was a good day.
I ask myself who you are, you this figure who traverses all my languid visions of unknown landscapes and ancient interiors and splendid pageants of silence. In all of my dreams you appear, in dream form, or you accompany me as a false reality. With you I visit regions that are perhaps dreams of yours, lands that are perhaps your bodies of absence and inhumanity, your essential body dissolved into the shape of a tranquil plain and a stark hill on the grounds of some secret place. Perhaps I have no dream but you. Perhaps it is in your eyes, when my face leans into yours, that I read these impossible landscapes, these unreal tediums, these feelings that inhabit the shadows of my weariness and the caves of my disquiet. Perhaps the landscapes of my dreams are my way of not dreaming about you. How do I know that you’re not a part of me, perhaps the real and essential part? And how do I know it’s not I who am the dream and you the reality, I who am your dream instead of you being mine?
