It rakes so long for the feeling of injustice to dissipate. Maybe for some things it never goes away.
It’s so intense and heavy and stress inducing.

-
Wednesday, 22nd October

Happy to be home.

I’m insignificant and I’m everything.

I don’t think I’m seeing ghosts as much anymore. There’s fog here now but I may have made more peace with nighttime. Otherwise maybe it’s just a break in events. Either way I’m convincing myself that there are no ghosts; there is just life, and the absence of life is not a thing. It’s not any thing.

So then of course there’s this flowing time, and my fading memory, and days passing like sequences in a dream. So what is this night?

I don’t like that the hours are considered morning after midnight. Morning isn’t morning until the light comes back.

-
Tuesday, 21st October

So: I don’t know what’s next. I really don’t.

-
Monday, 20th October

so here we go, maybe I can quantify it;

from my experience with emotional trauma there are approximately 1800 recovery intervals, all representing days or days in between days from a period of 6-10 months. this recovery entails falling short of natural capabilities, even on any scale. on the large scale days, one has no heart to set sail for novelty or truth or happiness; one is so disheartened as to ignore forward movement and natural progressions. on small scale days, one could have received more from the world if the twinge of scarred pain hadn’t kept them from reaching yet an inch further.

simply though, a lack of spirit is a setback to the spirit.

(so how can one catalyze the fragmented spirit collection process?)

-
Saturday, 18th October

So I think I’ve started living more through nighttime,

because it’s consoling in a way. Because it’s where more parts of me have been feeling at home. Its a strange stillness that’s a break from supposed normalcy. And I know I’m not normal.

-
Wednesday, 15th October

excuse me

if I’m going to really do anything then I’m going to have to go a little insane first.

I think I know how to take action now, I’m just afraid of it

-
Tuesday, 14th October
qrieves:

uoa:

tinysquids:

toxicwinner:

me

I fucking quit

i hate art

"where’s your homework"


This image was a hoax. Even still ! It was hard to not believe.. This is what it feels like. It upset me enough that I had to write a letter to myself below.
That art gallery I told you that I might get into, it was a scam. A week ago I went to a RAW gallery event and then met up with Brittani, and coincidentally you and Robin and Carly were there— and I told you about it. And I later found out,
it was a pay to play.
So here are the disheartening things I’ve been looking at so far this month:
The gallery art world is largely inaccessible and hinges on privilege. Yes, some exhibits no doubt make people feel alienated. Museums in LA are not cheap. And who can blame that statement, “I hate art”, when the art itself has been so abstracted out of relevance to our lives?
Who participates in art? Who really helps artists? Why am I an artist?! What is “making a living”?
What even is art..?!
And I’ve been thinking, you’re probably right, the average person’s interaction with art is at an IKEA store.
Why is fine art and music so easily reduced to a mere hobby in our society?
We need a revolution. The public needs to appreciate art again above the guise of capitalism. There have been renaissance movements, people have come together, gorgeous things have been created..
What is our history now? What is our angle, what is our movement?
We’re smarter than this.
I don’t know what I’m going to do. I see so much bullshit already. I’m saddened at not knowing where to go, or what to do. Though it’s uplifting to know that I feel like I’m meant to do better than this.
I want to see art that is actual truth, and beauty. I want to hear music that can also play nerve strings. I want both to come together to make concrete, valid statements. I want to be a part of memorable experiences, to pursue relatable avenues, to be genuine. I want to inspire wonder. I want more meaning. And I can’t be the only one who feels like this.

qrieves:

uoa:

tinysquids:

toxicwinner:

me

I fucking quit

i hate art

"where’s your homework"

This image was a hoax. Even still ! It was hard to not believe.. This is what it feels like. It upset me enough that I had to write a letter to myself below.

That art gallery I told you that I might get into, it was a scam. A week ago I went to a RAW gallery event and then met up with Brittani, and coincidentally you and Robin and Carly were there— and I told you about it. And I later found out,

it was a pay to play.

So here are the disheartening things I’ve been looking at so far this month:

The gallery art world is largely inaccessible and hinges on privilege. Yes, some exhibits no doubt make people feel alienated. Museums in LA are not cheap. And who can blame that statement, “I hate art”, when the art itself has been so abstracted out of relevance to our lives?

Who participates in art? Who really helps artists? Why am I an artist?! What is “making a living”?

What even is art..?!

And I’ve been thinking, you’re probably right, the average person’s interaction with art is at an IKEA store.

Why is fine art and music so easily reduced to a mere hobby in our society?

We need a revolution. The public needs to appreciate art again above the guise of capitalism. There have been renaissance movements, people have come together, gorgeous things have been created..

What is our history now? What is our angle, what is our movement?

We’re smarter than this.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I see so much bullshit already. I’m saddened at not knowing where to go, or what to do. Though it’s uplifting to know that I feel like I’m meant to do better than this.

I want to see art that is actual truth, and beauty. I want to hear music that can also play nerve strings. I want both to come together to make concrete, valid statements. I want to be a part of memorable experiences, to pursue relatable avenues, to be genuine. I want to inspire wonder. I want more meaning. And I can’t be the only one who feels like this.

(Source: thefakeoriginal, via mydrunkkitchen)

Signed the first series of my limited edition prints in collaboration with Angeleno Artistry ! See more of my work at my site marileespencer.com

Signed the first series of my limited edition prints in collaboration with Angeleno Artistry ! See more of my work at my site marileespencer.com

There is too much I wish I knew about my pulse, but for the most part I know that I can follow it anywhere.
x
-
Wednesday, 8th October
If it comes from the very heart of love (the unselfish, positive, expansive one),
it shouldn’t ever be bad, it can’t ever be wrong.
x
-
Wednesday, 8th October

I feel like I’ve been asleep for years and maybe now I’m only just waking up.

Sensory overload and all that.

[I could use some encouragement.. I’m a weird creature that needs a lot of validation]

-
Sunday, 5th October

So I guess it takes me an unusually long time to recover from some things.
But it’s entirely fitting I think. I’ve got a stupid head in the past and the smarter one in the future and they tend to neutralize eachother sometimes to a point where I feel I’m at a standstill, and that I’m within no mindset at all, and that I’m mediocre at best.
But why not take a long time to get at whatever I’m trying to get at.. Why beat myself up over ‘wasted time’? This is all entirely convoluted anyway, and there’s no one way to be. Why hurry, but why slow down; why any speed,
when there’s a touch of the infinite here every day

-
Saturday, 4th October
-
Saturday, 4th October

I had a dream about a night fire that ate spoken words.
Someone fed it something of the idea
that kisses aren’t just kisses; they carry weight, they move landscapes. And in postsilence
I was pecked on the cheek by a stranger,
a raven, who soon after
flew away from the sputtering blaze
into the stillness of unseen pines.

-
Thursday, 2nd October

And just as fall leaves expose bare trees so too does disillusionment settle with this season- blahblahblah [something long and pretentiously profound I would have said earlier] & for me, fall is the progression, a turning of mind. See here: for the Summer artist, she believes she’s entitled to the world she imagines, and the suspected sunny qualities of the people within it. And so inevitably her visions get chiseled with realities, shifting within colder, electric weeks. Her marble sculptures lose their finer features outdoors under rain.
It’s ok though, the rain was always more beautiful.

-
Thursday, 2nd October