From a friend who knows my apartment:
Don’t bother reading this but you
can see that they have taken a page from your book.
============
From me:
Thanks - yes, I
guess this is the species of what I’ve done here, interesting to see it parsed
out as a decorating idea. It was all such an organic thing for me - I guess I
made ‘decisions’ about what to put where, but because the art was so personal -
there’s only one piece on the wall which wasn’t created by me, my mother, my
father or a friend - a pretty little framed oblong of Asian (Singapore, I think) art in the studio which a friend
gave me (and which I’m thinking of taking down because it's not made by someone I know!) - the experience of putting
all this up felt more like putting it where IT was destined or expected itself
to be: I was carrying out its plan, sort of fulfilling its destiny. That
probably sounds like a psychiatric disorder but if it is, it also afflicts me in the creative scenario I feel I'm in when I draw or I write: I’m co-creating and all I know about my
co-creator is that it’s got the upper hand. Just woke up early after a long
sleep - funny to find myself writing this as my first sentient act. I think I’m
about to draw something! As usual I have no idea what. But I never need to
know. Something else is in charge of that. I’m however in charge of making
coffee ☕️ first.
At least I think I am. Anyway, something will now make coffee.
Cheerio(s)! (They're telling me to eat them, too.)
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