A day in the life. I life in the day. How can the larger context to which our ideas exist be realized in a representation. Nothing is original. It is a translation, a moment in time where the proximity to other energies or developments make it new again. A rebirth in a sense. How can this rebirth be visualized.
Right now, is it an image of my fingers typing across a plastic keyboard? Is it the murmur of my thesis prep coach defining and refining how to frame a problem? The sun light draping across the floor and reflecting off of the projection screen in competition with the plasma.
For me, I will try to translate this in a blog. A web log. I want to have a metacognition about how I think, how I can break myself down while building myself up. The in and out of bounds of my own reason will have to be rooted in my own experience. I don't mean for this to be a diary, but in fact the laboratory of vocabulary, rhetoric; architecture.
This psychological component will show up intermittently My mood will inevitably be translated as a component of my conditioning. A script. A drama. The atmosphere.
So here I am now.