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[Previous entry: "Friday, March 19, 2004. Draig Athar, 30, Artist, Connecticut, USA"] [Main Index] [Next entry: "Sunday February 29th 2004: I am 39, live in Swindon with my husband, daughter and our weird cat (thinks he's human)"]
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
Friday March 19th 2004. Righard, 22, works in a CD-store and currently resides in Cape Town, South Africa.
Well, just my luck. The one day that I am required to tell people I have never met about, and it turns out to be perhaps the dullest day ever spent by anyone in the world. I mean, it is common (I should hope) for any aspiring young artist-type to fantasize about the interviews they will one day give to super-interested journalists who will have plenty of informed questions about "the new direction of the last album" or "the practical implications of such an elaborate set design" or "the liberal use of grotesque imagery in, particularly, the fourth chapter of this novel" or "the anti-art principle that is written all over one's current installation". The charm behind such chimerae is, of course, the idea that people, in the abstract sense, are, for some reason, really fascinated by whatever it is that you are busying yourself with: being known by people you don't know, which, as Bourdieu would tell you, is a strong indicator of ample social capital.
Anyhow, as it happens, I don't know any of the people who will be reading this entry, so I could have made myself sound like a very interesting person by going off about the aleatoric elements in my improvised music which is facilitated by the mechanical repetition inherent in the electronics I use, and the resultant aesthetic of serendipity - finding beauty in the chance relationships between sonic elements.
However, as it happens, I spent the entire day procrastinating. Played "Snake" on my cellphone. Almost beat my last high score. Smoked cigarettes. Ate breakfast and lunch. And daydreamed.
Posted by February 29th
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