“Was not their mistake once more bred of the life of slavery that they had been living?—a life which was always looking upon everything, except mankind, animate and inanimate—‘nature,’ as people used to call it—as one thing, and mankind as another, it was natural to people thinking in this way, that they should try to make ‘nature’ their slave, since they thought ‘nature’ was something outside them” — William Morris

Monday, May 21, 2012


I'm up and walking, sitting, drinking coffee at half past six am. What is this rush? In part it's my body on autopilot—there has been a lot of a adrenalin these last few weeks, buying and selling a house in record time (six weeks) will do that to you.

But behind this, there is a “flight from myself” going on, as Heidegger would put it. Transition churns up basic anxiety, your best friend who accompanies you everywhere. It's an interesting acid, it burns through joy, hope, fear, anger, sadness, everything. I am propelled by this across Earth. With my GPS on my phone I feel like a voyager, like De Quincey setting out across London following the stars. A flaneur.

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