I look at this phrase and Alex Trebek appears before my eyes with fifty questions that all led to Vacation Land. My attention has been on domesticity but this phrase- Vacation Land -keeps tugging at me. I am almost a month off the high of my MFA graduation exhibition, Intimate Space: Domesticity, Hospitality and Land Use. I have been rereading Long Life Cool White by Moyra Davie, Mothering edited by Moyra Davie and Maternal Metaphors by Moyra Davey et al. I am indulging in time with my daughter and watching the new season bring back life to the woods and yard.
Being mud season the camps are closed. Time feels like it is stretching this time of year between the lack of people and the days getting longer. These lone times are a bit more intimate and cool. Today I cooked my birthday cake, did laundry and read a bit for fun, Annette Lemieux's The Strange Life of Things. I want to get ride of twenty years of clothes and I am processing how I want to do it. Index, random mailings, reconnecting, connecting, goodwill with notes to see if I get reply. All these things bring me satisfying memories, but stuff is a burden. The memories do not need them and no one else knows the connections. Too much relational aesthetics makes me want to be a Buddhist monk. For now, I need to set a plan. Action is the best motivator.
I continue to make my daily postcards to my daughter. I think about the cameras place in our intimate relationship. I write conversationally. I take images from our regular normal daily life. I post them to engage the mechanics of the process. You do not see changes when you are in them, but in retrospect it is intriguing. She herself loves to make images. This week we had a laugh because she likes to say cheese and I explained I am not one for fancy smiles and prefer deadpan. She now laughs and yells deadpan. She is three, so this is funny to her.
Being mud season the camps are closed. Time feels like it is stretching this time of year between the lack of people and the days getting longer. These lone times are a bit more intimate and cool. Today I cooked my birthday cake, did laundry and read a bit for fun, Annette Lemieux's The Strange Life of Things. I want to get ride of twenty years of clothes and I am processing how I want to do it. Index, random mailings, reconnecting, connecting, goodwill with notes to see if I get reply. All these things bring me satisfying memories, but stuff is a burden. The memories do not need them and no one else knows the connections. Too much relational aesthetics makes me want to be a Buddhist monk. For now, I need to set a plan. Action is the best motivator.
I continue to make my daily postcards to my daughter. I think about the cameras place in our intimate relationship. I write conversationally. I take images from our regular normal daily life. I post them to engage the mechanics of the process. You do not see changes when you are in them, but in retrospect it is intriguing. She herself loves to make images. This week we had a laugh because she likes to say cheese and I explained I am not one for fancy smiles and prefer deadpan. She now laughs and yells deadpan. She is three, so this is funny to her.
