We make the road by walking it

I wanted to draw the type of maps you would give to someone when you were decribing how to get to a local country pub, a map that was only useful before GPS.  This map is from the writing in the home and the street project- looking back I think this is where I cut my teeth as an artist/researcher.  Richard was a good teacher,  he knows how to riff off ideas and walk with a flow.

Monday mornings are coming around faster and faster.  I've just read my last post - I enjoyed its manic energy and wondered if I was actually alright.  I think I was going a bit deleuzonal last week my back against the wall of the abstract machine the immersion in the writing of Glissant and the Deleuze were perhaps to much.

A weekend sort of 'off' and the government giving me another 3 grand and chatting to Kate and Becci have brought me back to earth a bit.  I've also enjoyed a couple of email exchanges with Sarah Truman who I think is very clever.  I think reading a thousand Plateaus is like Conrad's journey into the Heart of Darkness to find colonel Kurtze or Marlon Brando. The point is to loose your mind along the way.  I'm also loosing a bit of momentum with it at the moment and have for the first time dropped some of my attention today.  I'm reading about the molecular and the molar and its just one step into this-being-that but different and the-same-as-that- but different at the same time - it has done my head in as the kids would say.

I went to the allotments to feed the chickens with Tim yesterday.   In the greenhouse he asked me to explain the Body without Organs, then we talked about Shamans and his sisters funeral and finding a bronze age flint flake in the soil from the grave.  I explained Karen Barads meeting the universe halfway and we both decided that although we are hard wired to find a flow of meaning in things for the true Shaman this is not linguistic - it is a flow that does not require a signifier or a signified. The Shamanic journey is never circular. We gave the chickens noodles and stole their eggs.  It was good to see Tim as he made me feel less mad partly because he is clearly  more unhinged than me and partly because he is probably the only sane person I know.  Tim says its like the dog that only barks at you when he is sure you are not aware of him - a dog  chained to his vomit by habit.