autopeasant

Wake up, and persevere.

Early on, I reached the symbol of the post office. My procrastination had always been right on schedule, finishing papers and grant applications at the last minute, and having to travel to the city to drop them off either at school or the main post office just before the deadlines. But that autumn, a bleak depression was setting in. First there was the exaggerated lethargy in August, a few weeks before I finished the year-long daily photo project. Then there was the brain meltdown, the complete burnout, and the depression. That particular visit to the post office was different in that respect.

What self-reflection looks like. Re-processing this with mobile technology I could only have wished for in 2007. I remember—even a few iota of sharpness was a derring-do that should’ve been don’t. But besides I-love-the-art-of-photo-processing, there’s how much it’s a part of my self-reflection process psychoanalytically—besides just literally reflections of myself in various mirrors, haha. There was that literal a-ha in learning the schiz brain’s way-of-being. #Theory #TheoryGirlPhotography

In context, it seemed what I should address was—I’ll again phrase it somewhat bluntly & simplified in terms—“God, Mom, and money”.

New #damnhellbathroom art. Self-Portrait in Whole Foods.

And now I have to talk about Contemporary Philosophy of Fiction—the concept of fiction to the human psyche is a lot more complex than it first seems to be to the naked eye… er… brain.

This is Genre.

I’m currently parked in a comparably unbusy roundabout—at the end of a bus route (the S76 in Staten Island in New York City). A United States Postal Service vehicle has just made the round, and an aforementioned S76 has also passed on its route while I’ve been typing this.