Out of the illiteracy of summer (to which not all are susceptible, but I most certainly am), comes other, more volatile, obsessions. If I were in 18th century France, this might mean seduction and heresy, but here in the boonies, where our egos are kept in check by the lightning and alien rock formations, summer obsessions take on an altogether more inhuman character. At the moment, I cannot relinquish thoughts of:
1. Crystals- quite literally the ordering of flows. the science of how you get something geometrical to emerge from something which is not is clear, but this doesn't make the act of finding a crystal in the dirt any less astounding. The experience always has an extra-terrestrial tinge to it, as does everything, really, which reminds you that the earth is first and foremost a geological entity. Björk and Gondry, are, as usual, extremely adept at capturing this sublime strangeness.
2. Money- not the accumulation of it, but its endless, irrational coming and going. My current line of work puts me smack-dab in the middle of infinite arbitrary exchanges, and I have tried to explain to Madeleine time after time how hypnotic this becomes. I wonder, really, if this, and not the promise of reward, is what drives gamblers. For this reason I have also developed an unhealthy interest in the 2-dollar bill, which is rare enough these days that it seems to create jams and blockages whenever used as legal tender. This summer I have received two, a suitably clunky number.
3. The secret behind our pixelated reality! If only tabloids would run this kind of story. Come winter, doubtless, I will find this completely ridiculous and untenable. But, for now, I am a hologram.
