Desire Caught by the Tail

Today I learned that Picasso wrote a play, entitled by the above sentence fragment.

I also went to the Museu d'arte Contemporani de Barcelona, and walked on broken glass:
This is Cildo Meireles and his instalation, which I very much enjoyed. I had to sign a waiver before I walked inside it.

Before that, there was a room. A red room. All red. White walls, white light.

It might make you go mad.
A sink, running red liquid·blood
with which to paint the room.
With which to paint everything.

Photo credits: Leitura Favre, Maria Gimenez

For you.

If I was in Oxford, I would make you some homemade soup.

However, I´m not. That´s sad.

It was the song that shattered when the musicians stopped listening.

In the White Horse, a boy asking for pie and a man staring blindly into space.
Loneliness as tangible as incomplete thought or moment of time years past.

Time always. Not the right time, she said. I agreed. She wore a beautiful gold necklace.

Not that I do not want it to be.

an appropriate definition.

So you know:
Manipulative, adj.
Exercising control or influence over others esp. in a malign, devious, or underhand way.

ex: The blonde woman, her again, in the middle, in the crux of the problem, distraction. When she speaks to you, you are the only one in the room. But sometimes you become aware of her wandering eyes, waiting for someone else to talk to, to use. She tells you only what you want to hear. Laughing, wondering how far she can push/pull, until you will realize what she is doing. Some people never do.

"The manipulative and the declarative are the twin incentives by which the development of language is fostered in the child, and remain the essential functions of language in society." M. M. LEWIS Lang. in Society i. 24 from oed.com

Pier in the Sand

My new laptop desktop background is one of those generic photos that came with the computer. Black and White, it's a photo of a large dock emerging from sand into a body of water - a large body, as there is no type of land visible in the distance. It's entitled 'Pier.'

I am in one of those moods where I want to listen to music, but from my mp3 library of 7000+ songs, nothing interests me. It's not that I have too many choices and can't make a decision, it's that I don't have any affinity to the plethora of choices. Like when you stand in front of the refrigerator, looking for something you don't know what but knowing you will eat something, but not really even hungry to begin with. Or when you can't find anything you want to watch on TV but are too lazy to do anything else besides sit there uselessly flipping channels. Or that I also put up a generic photo as my background because I knew I couldn't relate to any of my own photos at the moment. (Also note the change in this background. It will most probably be changed back next time I write a post.)

There is going to be a full moon tomorrow, and I want to burn something. Some of the Burning Man contingency in MI is getting together for an effigy burn, as a cleanser to re-begin this New Year that seems to have started out pretty poorly for many people. Hmmmm...I should build something. Should find some wood. Maybe I'll burn a poem or two.

I have done nothing all day, and this is not a good thing.

Much Too Volatile

Looking at photos
it is snowing and
listening to
My Brightest Diamond.
Inside a Boy.
I don't have time
to be doing this.

Functions

Last night I watched this crazy Japanese film. It was one in the morning by the time we started it, and I was already half asleep. I had never heard of it before, but S. had it lying around and had only watched the first 20 minutes. So, Friday night/Saturday morning we lay on the couches in the basement of Winchester House and turned on what turned out to be, on reflection, an entertaining little distraction.

Five characters with seemingly disjoint story lines eventually end up relating to each other somehow, but they never really do come together. My favorite was the first character introduced who repeatedly must murder his wife because she won't stay dead. Or she's dead, but keeps appearing back at home when he returns. But the best part is that she then tries to kill him. Repeatedly. She grabs him from inside the full bathtub, pulls him in to drown him. She is able to shoot off her appendages to attack him after he uselessly cuts her into pieces in an attempt to keep her dead. She blows fire at him after he kills her again and burns her.

The colors are amazing, scenes shot beautifully. I must say, though, that nothing much happened. Interesting though, and I was really just too tired to care. Maybe I'll like it more if I watch it when I'm awake, conscious, and so can actually pay attention.

The English assassin in the film is obsessed with one question: What is your function? He asks everyone he meets.

What is your function?