Listening to Courtney Barnett on repeat all morning. I finished the drawing I had to stop yesterday because I got a headache which may have been a migraine. 'Light sensitivity' is a pretty vague term when you think about it. But just thinking about exercise can make you feel better.
I think I finally cracked the fiction part of my thesis yesterday. I still don't know how it's going to end but my character has become what I want and not what people think (it all makes sense, it all makes sense). Reading endless books and watching endless films by men, about men, makes it hard to write the truth. It makes you forget how to be a woman.
I make overly complicated lists but they keep me on track. I remind myself to vary my sentence length. I forget how strong the marker fumes can be and consider experimenting with oils. I still have a headache but 'taking it easy' doesn't qualify when mostly I do nothing at all. I push on, I push through.
I just read this essay by Tavi Gevinson: http://ilymag.com/2016/02/09/tavi-gevinson-essay/ I want to spend so much time just reading beautiful essays and long form journalism and well-written celebrity profiles. They don't understand that it's not the subject, it's just good writing. We had Honeymoon in Vegas on video tape. We watched it a lot.
What does it even mean to use that dreamy cliché, that a real-life event “felt like a movie”? / It was cold and it rained so I felt like an actor
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