Had a dream that I couldn't breathe and woke up gasping for breath. Yesterday I woke up with a sore eye. The eye ended up getting infected.
There was a trail of liquid that led from across the street to the front door of my block of apartments. It trailed inside all the way into the elevator, from the elevator it led to level 3 then down the corridor to a spot directly outside my apartment door.
Wondering about this type of art that seems to be about the pressure of making art. Pressure holds people, perhaps it holds things together. Or there is the pressure to perform or the necessity to keep performing to a certain standard. I'm wondering about a different sort of pressure, one that doesn't work within a matrix of professional standards or expectations. So I'm just going to plot some work here for the next 2 years (I think time limits are important for websites).
