Summa: diary (May 22, 2026)
May 22 (Friday).
The few photos I could find,
Were from the afterlife,
in the wake of those departures.
And I saw signs:
‘Recovery’, ‘Prosperity’, and ‘Reconciliation’.
(‘These words should be their caption’, I thought.)
This is what I’d hoped and prayed for,
when all contact ceased.
This still, silent ghost, seated ‘in their right mind’, laughing.
Now, I could rest in peace.
A week gone-by, of aching limbs, headaches, stuffed sinuses, queasiness, loss of appetite, profound lassitude, and recumbency. My world had come to a stand/sit/lie still. From my couch, I stared up at the pale-blue sky for so long that it appeared to turn grey. I read the movement of trees against the wind, marvelled at the periodicity of rain showers throughout a day, and followed the drift of gulls, crows, and red kites, from one window pane to another.
There’d been no writing, just dreaming, as I slipped in-and-out of wakefulness. In this state, my fantasies were like Instagram reels: short, concise, and focussed … but with the sound turned off. They repeated (deliriously), but did not loop. With each iteration, some aspect was changed and clarified. Until I got them just right.
Then there was the long-form narrative — the inner ‘play’ — which, like the The Mousetrap, has been ‘performed’ for more years than I can remember. The context of the action changes, but the stage, props, and plot trajectory remain the same, for the most part. Some of the secondary character were different this last week. But I and the other leading actor retained the same backstory. The face of the ‘other’ is continually redrawn. I see only their essence.
See also: Intersections (archive); Diary (September 15, 2018 – June 30, 2021); Diary (July 16, 2014 – September 4, 2018); John Harvey (main site); John Harvey: Sound; Studium; Academia; Facebook: The Noises of Art; Bluesky; Instagram; @Threads; YouTube; Archive of Visual Practice