Thursday, June 27, 2013

More anxiety, and words


This image would be better if my body and face were as sharp as my hands and the low sugar, high fructose corn syrup free cherry pie filling. I'm glad my mom didn't see what I was doing in our garage, because however disturbing a final work of art may be, it will never be as disturbing as seeing the process, your daughter stuffing her face with canned fruit and spitting it back out onto the ground repeatedly.
I got home from hanging out with friends and immediately set up this picture, which is a visual embodiment of my anxiety. A phrase that I tend to insert into common conversation is "I'm gonna barf," which is an infantile way of expressing a complex tug-of-war running from one end of the slimy grey rope of my brain to the other. This picture is just a feeling, an effect of phantom conversations that move in waves of mental nausea and of terrifyingly saccharine pain (Stay tuned for Rachael's Mind, a small crowded closet where a paranoid forty y/o woman, wearing a bandana and eating a Special K cereal bar, sits at a traditional high school desk and tries to talk to her cat).

I'm tired and I recently finished cutting out the faces of female celebrities while thinking of relevant insults, and I want to wake up early, so here is a PREVIEW of what I will actually do on my next post with the words that I've been collecting from various books I've been reading:

admonish: to warn or reprimand someone firmly; advise or urge earnestly; warn of something to be avoided.
"Don't touch the burrito, you fool!" the young man admonished his grandfather, who was so crotchety at this point he was about to eat the overflowing bean sleeping bag just to punish his insolent grandson with violent flatulence. 

Just so I can remember them!

Alright, gnightgrkksdsldfmgndfk

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