Shine Like the Top of the Chrysler Building

Why is my kitchen floor so clean, did I actually mop it?? No, nothing like that. As with most things illogical, the answer has to do with art. The question? Where is the best place to felt a 4' scarf. Naturally, pouring boiling water and soap all over the floor while I knead wool and silk to reflect my will is the most appropriate thing to do. (apparently, a tub was an alternative not to be considered until *after* the project was concluded) Happily, the floor was already wet and soapy, so it seemed best to just wipe the floor clean with the towel I'd gotten all wet anyway. Who says art isn't practical?

Starting the project, I had a very odd thing happen in my brain. I was working, and in the back of my mind, maybe from the lizard brain, came a feeling of rising hysteria. This is a feeling I've had before, not uncommonly. However, it normally happens in cases of extreme exhaustion. Since I'd overslept this morning for class after having clocked 10+ hours of sleep, I'm guessing exhaustion is an unlikely catalyst in this case. I was able to keep doing what I was doing (as I normally am when this happens) but had to spend at least some mental energy riding herd on the insanity. I found myself wondering... is this what it's like to go insane?

There's a half joke about how you're not insane if you think you are. What if that's not actually how it works? What if, like dementia, you can sort of see it coming. It creeps in, and you say "hey, what's that weird thing in my brain??" You work around it, and for a while it doesn't have much affect on your life. Eventually tho, maybe it just takes over and the next thing you don't know, you are standing in a gas station talking to yourself and the clerk is contemplating calling the police to have you removed, just to get rid of the smell of your body odor in their store.

Maybe it's like being on crystal meth. Reality becomes like a frictionless surface that you can't get a grip on, but the feeling of sliding along with reckless abandon isn't so bad anyway. I watched Spun the other day, and it was interesting to see people in that lifestyle. (and exactly how hot was Mickey Rourke as The Cook?? I kept watching him and had the keen desire to go slummin') That level of escapism has never really had much of a draw for me, but I do love to be a voyeur.

In this case, reality didn't slip away, I kept working. I think my design suffered because of the effort it took to keep the irrationality contained, but I was curious about it. I had a feeling that if I stopped, did something else, had a cup of tea or took a shower or something I could probably have gotten out of that mental state. (and it did melt away once I got in my groove on the project) But I was curious about this place in my head. What is it? Can I get there of my own volition? Would that have value?

I thought it was insanity, and in a way, I think it may have been. What if, on the other hand, it was actually a momentary access to the dream plane? Usually this happens with extreme exhaustion. I always sort of figured it was because my brain simply couldn't hold itself together a moment longer. But, what if instead, what my brain couldn't hold up was the barrier between awake and asleep? Conciously entering the dream world is what shamans do, perhaps I have a place where I can do that as well. How cool would that be? Pretty damn cool, I'll answer myself since I'm talking to myself.

This warrants closer investigation. I wish I had my ganzfeld glasses still, I'll bet they would help.