1. I am weary of calling my writing “work.” (beginning thought about why: I’m tired of the way work is equated with virtue and the defensiveness behind claiming it.)
2. I am just now realizing I have always assumed I would never own a piece of “real” art (ie the kind you pay a lot of money for.) Not being a person like that. Being a person who believes in buying art but can’t afford it, or can’t see herself as a person with the gumption to put art in her own home for her own personal etc. But now I’m saving up. See what that feels like.
3. If I were a documentary photographer I would take pictures of the backs of people so as not to have to interact with them asking to take their picture. Long studies of knitwear on shoulders, 5’o’clock shadows, the curves of ears. I’d make a big deal out of what remained after my cowardice. This is probably exactly what I do as a writer.
4. Trevor Paglen “They Watch the Moon” [for some reason image not showing up… take my word? Google?]