September 21, 2011 § Leave a comment
As I start to ready myself to move house, perhaps even city, again, I start to wonder what you (An outsider, that is; Perhaps even you) could learn from the little piles of debris that I have accumulated. There are things that I can try to erase by tearing into tiny white ribbons and things that don’t seem to matter enough to hide.
The most telling are the notes that I write to myself, varying from:
‘Now it came to it, I was seized with a great fear… that these wings were in themselves a kind of physical deceit; intended for the show and not use, like the beauty of some women.’ – Angela Carter, Nights at The Circus.
Two adjacent pages in the same reporters notebook. I guess that’s representative of what you will find here. Whatever makes sense at the time. I can’t apologise for that, but anyone who bears with it is very welcome here.
In any case, a large record of the last year of my life went in the bin this evening. It’s kind of liberating.