I’ve restored most of the stuff that I lost in the crash, but the drive is beyond salvation. The only things of importance that I’ve lost are a few images, and anything in the downloads folder. Any attachments you might have emailed me are now roaming the pastures of the great beyond.
There’s an exhibition going on at the art museum right now, concerned with painting. The modern art world being what it is it encompassed performance and installation as well, and since I haven’t been to any shows lately it’s such an odd feeling when I go. An essay is taking shape somewhere in my brains about my chosen profession and my role in it. I’m obviously not going to great lengths to establish a career, but I go through the motions of doing it. I buy magazines, see shows occasionally, have 2000+ articles in my RSS reader about grants and exhibitions, and most of my friends are part of that scene.
In lieu of artistic work, I take great pride in the wheezing and panting I do every other day. When I started running I was at one point overtaken by a lady pushing a baby stroller. It was sort of a low point, and I had to take a picture to illustrate. The whitish dot disappearing under the viaduct is she, three minutes after she overtook me. Today I would totally kick her arse as long as she didn’t keep her tempo up for longer than three minutes – that’s how long I can run without stopping. I’m moving up to five minutes on wednesday.
I spoke with Stefan yesterday, and we discussed moving somewhere. Not somewhere in particular, but just the urge to move. He asked me why I’m still in Gothenburg, and it took me a bit by surprise. I haven’t thought of it much lately, but I guess that this is as close to a home that I’ve ever had, and I’m wont to enjoy the feeling.
Sooner or later I’ll be in good enough shape to do a Forrest Gump, and I’ll take off for Taipei or the horn of Africa, but until then I stay put.