the horizons in oregon are rolling hills covered in pine trees way in the distance, white mountains, rows of houses tucked behind the buildings and construction cranes in the city, layers of bridges crossing the river. one morning i walked a mile through a sort of familiar neighborhood i felt so sad because of attachment i wanted to go back the whole time i was walking it was really stupid. i feel that sort of attachment all the time when i am alone. cut pills into fourths and lay rows of vitamins out. go shopping for food and don’t have to worry about money for the first time in my life, keep playing housewife but without noticing it anymore. i have circling thoughts about walking home alone late at night when i go back to my real life- very disconcerting that i think about those things with so much fear now. listen to people in their yards all get louder in the evenings as the days go by and the cut grass smells very sweet when it gets hot and sunny.
I wake up early (for me) most days and dusk takes forever to get to. I don’t ever feel like going out during the day or night, sometimes I feel so underwhelmed that I feel overwhelmed but I hardly notice it. I work in a big blue house with flowers along the door and hanging down from the porch cover, walk 2 miles to drink a tall beer in the afternoon and watch the plants change day to day in the yards on the way. I miss taking intrusive street shots of strangers and drunk friends and pretty styled models I’m not sure if I like what’s left if it’s all that i’m making and not having the drive to do more. My work room is filling with more mirrors and window frames which make me feel nice and my flash has been out of batteries all month. I watch the kids on my street shoot a soccer ball at a basketball stand without a net or hoop and say hi back to the little girls with pretty beaded hair playing along the fences. I don’t feel lonely like I used to but I miss a lot.
Last month I lost all of the photos that I took and didn't feel close enough to anyone at the time to really want to photograph them or something or anything, February is always a bad month anyway. I read the temperature of my room displayed on my space heater 42, 44, 49 and watched the clear pools of gel on my mirror shift and frost over. Held my hand under lamplight and waited to see the blood from another cut bead up and run, thought about watching my pupils dilate in a mirror as my neck was touched. This month I moved to Oregon on the other side of the country for a while. Shifted back to all of my belongings being full suitcases, traded icicles for blooming trees. Listened to rain tapping my plastic hood and frogs in the quarry next to the house at night. I lay in bed with nothing much to do and look at the distilled water jar my boy keeps on the windowsill for the plants the linoleum floor and motes. I feel very calm and empty-minded which is nice for now. Every beautiful place I went to I enjoyed very much but it was kinda like that quote 'he was pointing at the moon but i was looking at his hand', haha. Falling asleep isn't a game anymore and the morning is all red light.