Diary 34

05.18.23

I took a break from writing. My work has always been heavy with sensorial descriptions, but sometimes I’m not sure exactly what I’m trying to say through these descriptions. They weren’t feeling as purposeful as they used to.

But somewhere within the last few weeks I started thinking about how the five senses may embody the human experience. By this I mean, what is the scent of flesh, the scent of pain? What is the sound of memory eroding as the body ages? What does longing taste like? And in answering some of these questions, finding the poetry in being alive, recovering the reasons for why I write the way I do.

05.20.23

As my grandparents get older I’m confronting the inevitability of death, becoming increasingly desperate for more time with them. However, I’m holding the belief that all of my written correspondences with them—texts, letters, birthday cards, etc.—will afford me some of the extra time I’m craving, and potentially, allow them to live forever, and that’s been an encouraging thought.

05.27.23

We learned to dance silently, like smoke.
So how do I reconcile the strength of my voice
without starting from the beginning?

A language uncompromising
(one which preserves our dignity)
may goad the riot I intend to cause.

No, I won’t hide my filth in front
of the crowd that awaits.

Now envision the carcass of a heifer swaying
silently, upside down,
and I’ll tell you about the silences we’ve held in our stomachs.

05.30.23 - 06.02.23

01. Hiked Yosemite. Stood at the bottom of the most powerful waterfall I’d ever seen, and let the cold wind & water drench me in my clothes.

02. Mama deer and her doe ambled silently through our campsite while we ate dinner.

03. Rented a pontoon, anchored at different coves on Shaver Lake and tried fishing, but only caught one trout.

04. Ran through the pines at sunrise.

05. Woke up to a dense fog rolling over the lake.

06. Learned that in order to keep critters out of your engine, you have to prop your hood up. Unfortunately our campsite neighbors had their underhood insulation chewed through, we’re presuming, by raccoons.

ATTENTION INVENTORY

01. Somewhere to Disappear, a photo documentary by Alec Soth.
02. Jackyl- True Widow
03. Stab binding with maple, walnut, & mahogany by Hyungi Park.
04. Thinking about Finesse vs. Force:
-Finesse allows for intricacy and precision, and this precision can be very, very creative.
-Force is quick and effective, but lacks creativity.