Wednesday, August 05, 2020

Why didn't I do it for you?


Day 5:

A photograph is a lie. It takes the soul of what is sacred and lays it flat as if to say: Here is the shape of life, watered to disaster. Dis-aster: “bad star” or “ill-starred” like the shade of me disappears underground and between hooks and seeds, I can’t catalogue fast enough the labyrinth of plenty to undo deceit bloomed here. Everything I have learned about love, I have learned in this city: That is a truth I will die under. Ask me, and I’ll tell you, I had to hide it away to forget your name. That is how much you hurt me.


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Process Notes:


“Many therapists see CPTSD as an attachment disorder. CPTSD almost always has emotional neglect at its core… survivors typically struggle to find and maintain healthy supportive relationships in their adult lives.” –P. Walker


if you are quantum fixt to me
know we are going toward pure light

grief is like touching the surface
of water
you don’t become the water
and yet

“What is it that we as humans ultimately depend on? We depend on our words. We are suspended in language.”   -N. Bohr

Sound moves at 330 meters per second in air.


we do not survive our lives
so forgive, can you forgive
wave matter not duplicated but
the smeared out of my face
in the end, i will have the silence
i long for, i am untouchable
inside the box, i do not exist
i will extinct this song

In December of 2019, I went to a photography show with a friend who I grew up with in New Orleans east. Which photo is your favorite, I asked. And then we picked the same one: A picture of the lakefront. Nothing bad ever happened at the lakefront, I said. The photographer gave me the picture framed for my birthday, and I hung it across from my bed so every morning when I woke up, I would see it. When the pandemic hit, I would walk the lakefront for hours just like my mom and I would after my brother suicided. Nothing bad ever happens at the lakefront. We walk the paths of grief so often they familiar. I watch the photo on my wall, and the scene never moves. And we never move. We stay rooted to the places that have watched us suffer.


New Orleans Historic Collection, West End Amusement park 

Photograph:

New Orleans Lakefront with my shadow in it
30.0385° N, 90.0264° W

Hurricane Katrina hit southeast Louisiana on August 29, 2005. As the waters of Lake Pontchartrain rose with the storm, a section of levee floodwall along the 17th Street Canal near its mouth with the lake collapsed catastrophically. This was one of the most significant levee failures which occurred in the wake of Katrina's landfall and put the majority of the city underwater.
Floodwaters from the floodwall breach inundated large parts of the neighborhood in a matter of minutes. Near the breach itself, the force of the rushing water uprooted trees and even separated some houses from their foundations. Some areas received as much as fourteen feet of floodwater.
source: Wikipedia


In December of 20___, I went to a ______________ with a __________ who __ grew up with in New Orleans east. Which ________ is your favorite, __ asked. And then we picked the __________: A picture of the l_________. Nothing _______ ever happened at the lakefront, ____ said. The ________ gave me the picture framed for my ________and I hung it across from my _____so every _______when I woke up, I would see ___. When the XXXXXXXXX hit, I would walk the _______ for hours just like my ______ and I would after my XXXXXXXX suicided. Nothing ____ happens at the lakefront. We walk the paths of ______ so often they _________. I watch the _______ on my wall, and the scene there never ________. And we never ________. We stay _______ to the places that have watched us suffer.



Plague journal

5.23.20

giving up illusions. surrender to the way people are, surrender to the way people feel about you, surrender to accepting this is how it is & finding freedom and joy there. it’s just a choice. you have to meet reality at reality. not all of it will move in one lifetime. do you think we could be smart enough to weather our way out of here.  genius enough to solve the riddle in real time. to navigate the magic faster. we blow the dreams of this species across the water. i travel all sound. i would go there. accept there is no surviving this. death is the purest form of love here and no one is without it. dear love, is it abandon when you leave. when i leave. when we disappear from one another’s lives. what are we allowed to do with time.

i have never started or stopped loving anyone


Notes from the Channel:



Resource:

N.O. Artist Brandan 'BMike' Odums: 'We Make Beauty Out of Pain"
The prolific multi-medium artist and educator talks to us about the youth media initiative 2-Cent, his mural work in post-Katrina New Orleans and the double-edged sword of the city’s “recovery.”
https://www.colorlines.com/articles/no-artist-brandan-bmike-odums-we-make-beauty-out-pain

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