Friday, April 30, 2010

Joseph cornell.

[Joseph Cornell]

Many of Cornell's most brilliant boxes were not intended for the museums in which they now reside. They were gifts, tokens of affection -- I love this. You will love this. He had them delivered to his favorite movie stars and authors. He handed them, personally to his most loved ballerinas. And hey were almost uniformly sent back. He was reject, laughed at, and, in one unfortunate case, tackled.

But the boxes themselves -- not his hopelessly romantic supplication -- survived. More than survived, they came to be considered among the most seminal works of twentieth-century art. Their call beckoned, and continues to beckon, curators, museum-goers, and so many artists and writers. Their call, not Cornell's. They became gifts of gifts of gifts of gifts -- a cascade of gifts without fixed givers or receivers.

Jonathan Safran Foer
Jackson Heights, New York
September 2001

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Don't have an envelope?

Pstttt. Instructions for submission are found on the first entry from February or here.
I don't discriminate against envelope types.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Box collection progress.

The box collection in finally beginning.
These ones are quite cute and tiny but I'm looking to go grander and larger!
Keep your eyes open for me.

Abrahams Trade Company

Books Cafe & Things

Burden 04.

[All purpose Generic Rubber; EXTRA SMALL (holds 1oz); Super Thin; Made in Taiwan]

Burden 03.

I get so nervous during sex, I sometimes throw-up.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Love's not the way to treat a friend.

This is not a burden but somehow it felt appropriate. I would love to hear how people interpret this. Perhaps love is without friendship, or friendship without love, or just love of oneself in another... Perhaps we need to reevalute our friends and our loves and not always put them together. Not all sandwiches taste good enough to save or make all meals of the day.

Love’s not the way to treat a friend.
I wouldn’t wish that on you.
I don’t want to see your eyes forgotten on a rainy day, lost in the endless purse
of those who can remember nothing.
Love’s not the way to treat a friend.
I don’t want to see you end up that way with your body being poured like wounded marble
into the architecture of those who make bridges out of crippled birds.
Love’s not the way to treat a friend.
There are so many better things for you
than to see your feelings sold as magic lanterns
to somebody whose body casts no light.

Richard Brautigan

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Burden 02.


Hi hi. The last 6 months have been so hard, so there are lots of things I want to shed. The problem is that much of it is tied to abstract ideas, or feelings that have long been ingrained into me due to the past. General insecurities run deep and I feel like they hinder me. I have good and bad days where that voice of self-doubt is either a whisper or a shout. So in an attempt to move forward, I'm going to pick the most debilitating insecurity: self-doubt. I guess this stems from a lack of confidence in my own abilities and a general low feel of self worth. I find myself immobilized by fear and psyche myself out even before I begin. Especially in situations or opportunities where I should be saying yes. I find myself saying no, or even worse, no one cares or gives two shits about your work/writing. The worst is when i ask myself, what gives you the right to think your deserve this? That thinking is useless, and logically I don't know it makes no sense, yet I find it creeping up a lot this past little while. And it translates into my potential relationships with people. [Him. Him. Him.] Another thing I need to unburden myself from. He techno-danced on my heart. He's been gone longer than the time we spent together yet the imprint he left on me still linger. I think of him daily and wonder what I could have done differently, when in reality, it was him that had to work through the things going on inside his head. So I've got to let the little birdie, [him], out of the cage of my mind.

The grains of rice remind me of [him] because he is a Rice King. Though rice is a comfort to me and provides me nourishment, uncooked rice is also a hazard to birds and can cause their insides to explode, much like how my heart did. So cast away this rice, along with my feelings for [him].

The second item is a mini wallet I made a long time ago. It reminds me of self-doubt and the sometimes (read: often) harsh self-criticism.

Be gone, self doubt!

Burden 01.

I feel I have a world of good to give, a vat of insight to offer, and a world insistent upon stuffing it all back where it came from.

I constantly think about sex. The idea, the romance, the act. I crave it continuously. I love it, but it c consumes my thoughts, focus, and motivation to detrimental ends, and I rarely get it.

I find the way the world lives and prioritizes, it cannot go on psychologically, spiritually, or physically. I watch frozen as the train speeds at the fake tunnel Wyle E. Coyote has painted ont eh monolith ahead...

Those who society does not believe. Those experienced in E.T. encounters of the 4th kind; abduction, they break my heart, I believe them, I must help them. Their agony is palpable to my soul. But how?

The animals that suffer for men's stomachs, humors, and insight appalls me. I see it s a gross hypocrisy of "civilization."