Fixing stuff, myself included…
Signs of Spring?
The long time broken third floor window glass (one of my early attempts) is about to come apart entirely, even after many futile fixes/attempts to make it last till spring. It makes me think of Duchamp’s Large Glass in some funny way; however, the accidental cracking of his glass worked in his favor.
This year it has been hard to remember that winter is not all there is, but tiny crocus shoots, popping through the remains of the blizzard in my postage stamp backyard, remind me that’s not so. I’m sure most of the blizzard in Baltimore ended up in my basement last weekend brought in by the thaw, accompanied by the drum beat of torrential rain. This weekend the water level was manageable/ignorable (only about a half inch coming in through the cement basement floor.
“Art is a step from what is obvious and well-known toward what is arcane and concealed.”
This sign I encountered while trying to enter my thoughts this morning. Mist sliding over the rippling circles of water. The crocodile is a very old species. They were here long before Lacan and Derrida.
What do they have to do with crocodiles?
It’s more to do with signs than crocodieles, and did you know crocodiles have ears? Unless you can swim silently, you will be at risk. These waters are extremely dangerous. Please obey the signs.
“If language is the condition of the unconscious, the unconscious is the condition of linguistics.”