welcome, to the log
🜦 10.24.24
It's been a few weeks since my last entry here, I have bit a little busy. Language courses and design projects have me a bit exhausted by the time I'm finished with them. After some thought I have also decided to formally study design, which is decently exciting. I hope for many interesting things to happen in the future.
I've started to develop a system of working with projects and ideas, which I think is really good. Autumn is the most beautiful season and it sinks into me, all around me in everything I see. Each morning the mist piles up over the lake and I drive right past it as if I'm traveling through ghosts. I do love the fall.
🜼 10.3.24
The cold is going around. My throat started to tickle and ache yesterday morning and I remembered how long it had been since I had the cold. Now i'm sitting at my laptop with some hot tea praying it will go away during the weekend. I live in a cold place, it doesn't help my senses much to go out in the cold everyday. I killed off an entire pack of coughdrops within a couple hours, I know what my weekend will look like. On another note I am learning adobe illustrator, I have put it off for a while but it's starting to grow on me. Language learning is also going well, i'd say iæm currently about A2 level of a language I won't disclose. Things wouldn't be so bad right now if it wasn't for the burn in my throat.
⧲ 9.20.24
I am currently working on a small booklet of compiled works, both illustration and writing. I'm also seeking out some good stationary options (japanese gel pens/fountain pens).
⧲ 9.20.24
I am deathly afraid of bees, and so summer is tragic for me. The warmth of summer is another tragic thing, as I have had more than enough sunny days in my life. For those born in the desert, the heat threads your discomfort and irritation into a new emotion, not yet named by the people of earth. Now I write in the newly broken in journal, about losing my dreams and reading A Pale View of The Hills by Kazuo Ishiguro. There's a potato baking in the oven, and I listen to visual essays about archetypes. All will be well if the door isn't open to the bees.
✹ 9.17.24
My morning has been taken up by thoughts of wish bones and reading about them. I had the thought, while lying in my bed, that the wishbone might be one of the few symbols in our collective subconscious that have yet to be tainted. I think the wishbone is sacred, as its simple ritual has passed from culture to culture. Upon looking deeper into the wishbone, I found information about the Etruscans.
The Etruscans were a civilization of people who were deeply connected to birds and would practice augury (the interpretation of the movements and actions of birds) as well as other spiritual practices. I think about these things—about the rituals of the world and how they have swum through the bloodstream of many.
Just as I write this, the church bell rings near my home. As I am superstitious, I will take this as a sign to continue my light research on these rituals and what mysteries might lie within them.
🙪 4.16.24
It has been some time since I have updated my logs page and so I am back to provide some updated information on what I'm working on, how things are for me right now. Thinking more of rituals recently, I am seeking to create something that shines light on that aspect of our lives, the mundane practices that build the habit of living.
Spring is suddenly creeping around the corner, the sight of ferns unraveling hint at the coming days. I have also recently seen the film Picnic, which was a pleasant surprise, a gem in hiding. Like most Shunji Iwai films, there is that ethereal haze over the editing and filming, I really haven't seen any better than him.
I think that is all that comes to mind right now, farewell.
† 2.9.24
Upon watching Poor Things I was sorely disappointed in the majoirty of the film. The same cookie cutter structure of social commentary overlayed with some elements of shock factor and it was not entirely surprising that the film was so well recieved.
The only things I might say are redeemable about it was the use of old vintage lenses.
On another note I have started using Obsidian to sort through my ideas and research lately. I had forgotten how useful it was.
⚫2.9.24
I have decided to take on a new project, though I hesitate to say too much of it all now. I always have done my best under the pressure of hiding secrets. I believe it will be a nice addition to the website once I figure out where this project should lie. Like most of the work on my website it will be based around my writing.
Today I picked back up my mending project as well and it was semi-sucessful. With time, I think it will become something i'm capable of doing without worrying about the perfection of it all.
⏥ 1.27.24
Finally, the time has come to start writing and stretching out my bones again. That mysterious illness has ceased for now, the pain has almost entirely gone away but things must be different from now on. I will continue to write and update the journal as much as I can, I'm liking how the site is coming together and I might keep this version of it for a while. cheers.
▓ 1.22.24
Illness continues, moving in strange and specific ways I can not express in words. There is only hope for the spring now, hope that the cycle will soon cease.
Til the days are warm again, I suppose I’ll find my way along the lightweight painkillers.
Tomorrow, I’ll write again, a full three pages of something, I don’t yet know what. Nevertheless, wallowing in my rot hasn’t proved to soothe the ache.
▩1.16.24
Within the last few days, I have struggled to continue moving with my creative work for various reasons. I'm still finding myself in strange dreams and maybe as a result of a current dilemma i'm having. I do hope that I'll find the energy to return to writing soon.
🀨1.10.24
My hand is thoroughly f*cked. I have decided to take a small break from writing as I have been writing 3 pages a day for some 6 or so weeks.That routine has proved to bring a lot of peace to my day and dig out all of of the thoughts hiding in my head. I think writing can be converted into a strange motion of pureness, so long as you keep that thread of truth inside it.
It might be some issue with smaller wrists, bending it constantly to write longhand, i'm quite exhausted from it. Alongside all of the other work I do with my hands which I have also decided to take at least one weeks hiatus from.
It can be quite hard for me to stop all outlets at once but given the pain i'll say it's required as of now. Above is an image of me driving through my village.