…Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder, wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, numbling, rambling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eyeing, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding, grinding, grinding away at yourself. Stop it and just DO
Try and tickle something inside you, your “weird humor.” You belong in the most secret part of you. Don’t worry about cool, make your own uncool. Make your own, your own world. If you fear, make it work for you — draw & paint your fear & anxiety. And stop worrying about big, deep things such as “to decide on a purpose and way of life, a consistant [sic] approach to even some impossible end or even an imagined end.” You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to DO.
- Letter from Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse, April 14, 1965.
I doodle this few days back. You sent me this, sometimes before 5 pm— and I’d like to thank you. You and your ‘think, act, feel’ notion and not to let emotions spill to other places and stopped us from creating.
Because sometimes, when I was on my way to the bottomless pit of inexplicable sorrow that I can’t even find words to explain— I just grasping for any kind of grip that can help me to stay still, to go back to the ground and not falling down too far. And sometimes, You said the words that is needed, at that time. Thank you for bare with that; I am doing my best to learn to not to be too soft. It wasn’t easy– cause I was battling the monster that is my voices shouting corrupted things to my own head.
Because, when I was on my way to the bottomless pit of inexplicable sorrow that I can’t even find a word to explain how I have it— I was looking for help.
And I didn’t plan to make you my grip— but there are things that just happened out of control.
Short Journal is a series of shortly elaborated thoughts, opinion, homage, anything; from real live events — turned into a medium post. Will update periodically, and mostly about personal experience with the people around me, online or offline.