Growing Down

This piece is tiny. I rarely make small things but it's the theme for the show at the Fresno Art Museum.

Everything is telling me that time is running out. My shirtless friend, clean shaven, like a baby. I have no idea about the intention of that picture. God, I just wanted to ask what was wrong. Things are just so sad right now. Everyone seems so sad and searching. I am not that intuitive with other people's feelings, I just know myself, and, uh, I had to start eating more spinich and moving my bed every week. It's a nice bed, but it's the biggest thing I own, and I think I'd feel better if I just got a futon. Something small and easy to move around. Buy my bed. I'm not kidding. I'll send you pictures. It's new and feels good.

I like to challenge in little ways. Waiting as long as I can at work to take my breaks, Play Til It Hurts (in which I play one song on repeat for hours on end til I just can't take it anymore), getting rid of stuff. Dying with stuff sounds horrific. I started putting things in boxes to give to Goodwill. I started thinking that I shouldn't own anything that doesn't hold a meaning. Everything should be valued, everything should have a good memory attached, EVERYTHING SHOULD BE INTENTIONAL even if it was a wonderful surprise. I am keeping this for a reason. There is thought behind selection and choice. You need to know that things you care deeply about will be stolen from you. Your feelings will be stolen from you, so you better think long and hard about them and make peace with the rest. I didn't need to go back to memories of being violated. My worth is where my brain encased, not anything I have. I had become too superficial, enchanted by the common act of collecting. I am plugged into the system, receiving that energy and consuming. I like pretty things, I don't like petty things. I hate pretty useless things. I hate wealth, I hate happiness, I resent my own feelings and how justified and entitled I feel and can I get a break from that? There I go again.

Crash your car, eat your big mac, buy a bigger house, get more clothes that hold in your feelings while you eat them, feel your arms bulge wider as you are comforted by complacent rock, take a vacation. I'm full of judgement and superiority. At least I'm aware of it. By the way, here's a reminder: I am 28 and I am growing down, not up.


Elizabeth said...

butter makes the bitter batter better.

The Loss Adjuster said...

I used to be very attached to things in my life and I find myself less and less so as the years go on. I have things that have a use (my computer, my car, etc) and I have things that have personal significance (my jacket, my LP's, etc). But I often feel that it could all go away tomorrow and I'd just start over. Maybe the heartbreak of real life is just bigger than the idea of losing everything.