Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Visual Paranoia

For the person for whom small things do not exist, the great is not great.
--Jose Ortega y Gasset

I had the day off from the strip club today, and spent my time recovering from my illness, meditating, sleeping, writing and making my home as beautiful as possible.

Thoughts for the day:

1.) Giving away sacred things too easily is the mark of either a fool or a prostitute.

In practice, I am a little of both today.

2.) As previously feared, I AM going aesthetically insane in the style of Mondrian-- I re-arranged all my furniture today, and this weekend am planning on painting almost everything I own-- including my entire drafting table/easel-- white. My descent into this state of constant visual paranoia/painful sensitivity promises to be formal, romantic and, ultimately, as destructive to my peace of mind as an atom bomb. So it begins:

3.) The beauty (or lack thereof) of my domestic sphere impacts my general state of well-being more than any other factor (or set of factors) in my life. If I leave a mess in my home when I run out the door in the morning, I am plagued by a niggling sensation something is--slightly-- rotten in the state of Denmark all day long at work. Making the most of every inch of space I have seems to create an overflow of happiness and resources into the rest of my life. A tidy, happy home allows me to channel my thoughts elsewhere. I can't wait to feel fully settled in here so I can basically stop thinking about it.

4.) Tomorrow I'm going to call my dentist and get a price quote on veneers and make an appointment to get another plastic surgery consultation. I need to know precise dollar amounts in order to start saving with enthusiasm. This time (unlike when I got my nose done last year) if a new doctor does agree to do my chin and possibly eyelids, I am not going to tell anyone until after it's over. It creates unnecessary static.