26.9.17

Spring kills me every year.

I would rather sit on a train for 12 hours than be on a plane for 1. The landscape looks greener than I've ever seen it. There's that gentle sun and animals are lying down everywhere; horses, cows. I wondered if they were dead. The past couple of weeks I keep thinking back to that time just before adolescence, around year 3 or 4 even, just before hormones kicked in. I think I have alot of false memories about this time, lots of hollywood narratives mapped over real ones.

Spring and childhood have inseparable associations for me because it's a reminder of something that feels good. Like eating a mango, or sex. I wonder what climate change is doing to spring, and in what ways it is upending the cycles of memory & renewal. Maybe thinking about climate change as a threat to the 'innocence' of nature is actually just more of the same sort of violence that got us here in the first place.

I'm going to a funeral today and staying with my mum for a couple of days. I just let a fly in the house, it's clean in here. Letting a fly in feels letting chaos in.