I feel sorry for time most of the time. This book of Olivia Laing, ‘Funny Weather, Art in an Emergency’ is a good read, she crawles into the minds of artists who provides material with which to think: new registers, new spaces. At the moment I read her essay on agnes Martin. I took the inside of the hat out, now the hat fits and I made a new work of art: the inside out of the hat.
That is what I thought today, it doesn’t matter where you are, which day it is, who you are, what the weather is like, how quick time goes, how slow you are walking. How much money you have in your bank account, how old you are, how tired or energetic, how famous or completely unknown, or both simultaneously you are with you, not too nasty to others is what I thought today thank you. I really like reading about Agnes Martin, I almost feel comfortable. Beauty is unattached, it’s inspiration. I can’t wait to be old or somewhat older, when I might have found out how to let things go.
What I like best is to gather lots of clothes and fabrics, to wear them, to give them to others. They are like my first housing, to become who I am, constantly and different. On the other hand I do not want too much personal belongings.
When I am home next week I am going to buy all the books on Agnes Martin.
We are sleeping in a room in the French Ardennes, it’s actually a one room very tiny house with a bed, nightstand, buro, a fan, a flatscreen television, a microwave, a cooker, people size mirror, a refrigerator, a toilet, a bathroom with shower and a sink. The towels smell like chicken wings.
And like perfume mixed with cigarette smoke. It was a great experience. We drove home along the river Maas.
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