I’ve been thinking lately. Thinking hard, and so tirelessly that insomnia has ceased to exist for four days, and my dreams are once again the cracked out, incoherent craziness that accompanies that foreigner, that non-citizen: REM sleep.
I don’t have much to say about said thoughts; the fact that they exist is enough for now. But the Untitled Love Project turned me on today, which is due in large part (I suspect) to the kinds of conversations I’ve been having with you all lately. The project is in conjunction with ISM, and is, at its most basic, a collective contribution of broken hearts. Each contributor was asked to revisit an old relationship and express it through their medium (sketch, paint, illustration, text, etc.).
The event itself was held this past Saturday in L.A., but you can still view the pieces online. The last time I checked it looked as if they were working on organizing the pieces, but they’re all there and worth looking at. (Some of my favorites: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.)
I haven’t found, nor have I sought, any grand conclusions lately. Perhaps I’d just forgotten that we’re all inherently so very flawed. And perfection is simply an illusion.
[Jam of the Day]: Metric, The Twist