Infections continue to spike, throwing daily life into a state of suspension. There’s no other story in the news, there’s nothing else to think about these days. I wanted to write about Robert Ryman, who taught himself to paint while working as a guard at Moma in the 1950s. This is a dream of mine, to construct a simple life that teaches me to deal with silence and presence while learning how to paint. I thought I’d steer this journal towards art and trying to find some kind of god, but that feels silly now.
Tonight the president announced America was closing its borders against Europe for reasons unknown. Meanwhile in New York City, we’re told the subway is safe although we should avoid taking it. International borders are being closed and China has cranked its surveillance state to full volume, geofencing its citizens and corralling them with drones. Like removing our shoes at the airport, I don’t see how any of this gets unwound.
Going for a late-night run, I pass a screen that says a beloved all-American actor just announced he has the coronavirus too.
Aphex Twin – Tassels
From Selected Ambient Works II | Warp, 1994 | More
Soundtracking these days with this song of unease.
