neverending Saffron revolution
Maybe the ways of revealing and stating hate, hate against the opposite, against the weak, different. Hate against for whatever reason are more multiple and more out in the open than ever before. Therefore I conclude that the amount of hate possibly has not increased, but the ways of getting heard and noticed are more diverse, constantly variable and accessible and those who have strong views on how world should be constructed are loud.
I have to think about this, because this is about emotions which rule how we behave. I too do say I hate something and I can enjoy for saying it. But in the end I do not enjoy hating. It eats me up if I feel hate. Rage is a leading force in me still. It is dangerous and delightful. What are the distinctive differences what comes to emotions?
Perfection is an interesting goal. I as an artist am puzzled by it, it is the thing needed in art. It is an absolute, layered fulfillment. Question is is there something behind perfect? Does it end something when found? To define perfect is to leave out something. Perfection and beauty, culturally bound liking and appreciation. It is to find something whole and solid to fill every possible desire, to become content, find and conquer, achieve and win. It is satisfaction and thrill. Thought is, it is good to be perfectionist, like something to prove. But whose perfect is in question and for who do we seek to be perfect. Perfection, the idea of perfect, is wanted when there is a show going on, when there is something precious to gain. It is to stand out and be special, make an impression, give an awe.
I am little annoyed by perfectionist way of doing things. There is something missing there, but it is not neurosis nor compulsiveness, nor obsession, despair and unhappiness, fear of failure that is lacking. They are there like knives, like guilt and shame, fear of abandonment. Perfectionism is full of those things. It can be predatory and loath against making mistakes, which can prevent from trying. Prevent from being different. Special fades from narrow perfection, so does originality.
An apple on the ground near the grocery shop I shop, next to the rubbish bins and blank brown high fence, backyard, apple eaten by a crow. There are crows here which I adore, they walk with curiousness towards the world. Though they are gray and black, eat our leftovers, go through our garbage, make unattractive noise they appeal to me. It is their curiosity which I like, ways of observing what people do. Apple poked by a bird’s beak, explored deep hole in a fruit, waiting to be attacked and dug more, to be eaten completely, not halfway.
Google’s stereotypical portrayal of prostitutes and prostitution. People, you can do better than sell yourselves.
You cannot be questioned? You don’t want to hear my opinion? That’s funny. I stopped caring what you think about me speaking my mind, because either way it is wrong what I do. I just cannot fit into the given spot. I don’t want to fit in. You know what I mean? Yes, I can listen. I don’t think you can. It is a skill very rare, to give space for all kinds of thoughts.
Heavy winds. Nature of crisis. Is it an attitude question how we measure and define what is the quality of a disaster? For who and what has happened. The scale of downfall, accident or deliberate ill doing. What kind of catastrophes are we expecting since it is before our eyes, the worst ever in plural form and complexity. Disposable I love u’s and have a nice day’s. Get a new one.
Nature is in crisis always, at the brink of chaos. We like to rock the boat even further. It will grow back, nature. How long does it take for plastic to be decomposed? I repeat because it cannot be emphasized enough. We are what we produce and use, we like things to elevate us. It is also the key to the fantasy world of products and services made with sellable images. And how we produce. How indeed.