Thursday, November 09, 2023

PAINT, MEMORY

What's stored in the head is malleable, and sometimes covered with cobwebs. The interior of one's brain is like an attic with empty steamer trunks and old rocking chairs partially hit by shafts of sunlight. There is dust everywhere. And there are old photos.

The title of this post is taken from Vladimir Nabokov's memoir ('Speak, Memory'), the illustrations were drawn with the paint programme on my laptop.

Part of the 'problem' is distinctly Aspergers.

The mind locks into a routine, and then proceeds to beat a horse to death despite everyone else having moved on and wondering what you're gibbering about, why are you still talking about Nikes when they've already discussed recently found statuary in Mesopotamia which does have arms, and what pigments they were using back then, which, sadly, contained unstable elements that faded or caused chipping-off over time.
My apartment mate, as an example, has rediscovered a slew of videos on the internet which again fascinates her. Earwax extraction, black head removal, and cysts. So during the last several evenings, while I've been trying to read stuff, there have been a slew of disturbing exclamations. "Ooh, big one!" "Wow, that's a lot." "It must have hurt before." "Some men have really horrible skin." As well as: "Damn, it's all greenish!" Now, I really don't need to hear any of that. I've got my own mental treadwheels.

All flights must end at the unused hangar at the end of the runway.

Distinctly related thereto, situationally:

And perhaps I should mention that motion sickness is a state of mind. Years ago, on a channel crossing to Hoek, all the English speakers were unwell, whereas us speakers of Dutch were happily having coffee and other drinks and gabbing up a storm. We were heading back to civilization! Huzzah! This is fun! Would you look at those waves!


For some reason which I cannot explain I am reminded of things said by our 41st president.
Who was famous for not phrasing his thoughts particularly well.
And sometimes making little sense.


Remember what I said about unused hangars?



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