I’ve lived my whole life without having goals, and I think that’s very valuable, because then I never am in a state of anxiety or dissatisfaction. I never feel I haven’t achieved something. I never feel there is something yet to be accomplished. I feel like goals are quite counterproductive. They give you a target, and until the moment you reach that target, you are stressed and unsatisfied, and at the moment you reach that specific target you are aimless and have lost the lodestar of your existence. I’ve always tried to see everything as a process. I want to do things in a certain way that I can be proud of that is sustainable and is fair and equitable to everybody that I interact with. If I can do that, then that’s a success, and success means that I get to do it again tomorrow.
Source: Chicago Sun-Times
All posts in category life
steve albini on goals
Posted by sean on February 3, 2022
https://sd-stewart.com/2022/02/03/steve-albini-on-goals/
Ghost Paper Archives
Ghost Paper Archives
(GPA) is the imprint under which A Set of Lines has been published. GPA is a publishing collaborative focused on the creation and dissemination of texts and imagery, online and in print, that document facets of the human colonization of Earth. These facets reflect a tendency toward, or even a fixation on, the eerie mundanity of quotidian life on this planet. In short: we’re here, we’ve made a total mess of the place, but what does our daily existence communicate? What about the objects (and beings) we gather around us, or the built environments we inhabit, by choice or otherwise? And what role do dreams play? How can this raw material distill itself into new and disorienting spirits within the textual story container or across the visual landscape (be it moving or still)? The tiniest narrative fronds begin to unfurl.
If you subscribe to the Lost Gander blog, either as a WordPress user or not, I invite you to also subscribe to the GPA site, as that site will hopefully soon be busier than this one has been of late. You can sign up to receive future posts on the right sidebar of the GPA site. As always, thanks for reading!
Posted by sean on May 18, 2020
https://sd-stewart.com/2020/05/18/ghost-paper-archives/
life won’t leave us alone
When we close the windows and doors of our house and stay inside, we feel very secure, we feel safe, unmolested. But life is not like that. Life is constantly knocking at our door, trying to push open our windows that we may see more; and if out of fear we lock the doors, bolt all the windows, the knocking only grows louder. The closer we cling to security in any form, the more life comes and pushes us. The more we are afraid and enclose ourselves, the greater is our suffering, because life won’t leave us alone. We want to be secure but life says we cannot be; and so our struggle begins.
Posted by sean on August 14, 2017
https://sd-stewart.com/2017/08/14/life-wont-leave-us-alone/
‘to reduce the fever of feeling’
Outside the wind howls. Inside a trio of snowmen converse in the vicinity of a conference of paper birds. Last night the ‘artsy’ neighbors continued their grand tradition of slamming doors and other unidentifiable objects against floors and walls for several hours between approximately midnight and the archetypal 3 AM hour. Result: current state of apathetic grogginess. Desire for absence of shared walls swells with each passing night of lost sleep.
Days less measureless than before. Crystalline structure of incipient routines inches out beyond the borders of a now worn and tarnished impersonation of L.B. in Rear Window. Except there never was anything even vaguely menacing to observe, only a sea of moment-waves rocking gently against the fragile hull of this origami sailboat.
Return to Pessoa’s words: no novelty in the universal, no comprehensibility in the individual. The old ruse of intentional obfuscation falls flat. But still the urge to fit words together roils inside. Maybe to do it, like Pessoa says, ‘to reduce the fever of feeling.’ Yet if all is unimportant (which it is), why bother describing any version of it. Unless perhaps to merely locate and handle the words themselves. To dive to the bottom, seeking words buried deep in a consciousness whose mirrored surface rests fathoms above undisturbed layers of sediment. Yes, perhaps it is for that reason: to extract anything worth contemplating from the granular level, to slip some small truth from the interstices and examine it from all sides, even if only to then return it unseen.
Posted by sean on March 2, 2017
https://sd-stewart.com/2017/03/02/to-reduce-the-fever-of-feeling/
a feeling for all living things
It is odd that we have so little relationship with nature, with the insects and the leaping frog, and the owl that hoots among the hills calling for its mate. We never seem to have a feeling for all living things on the earth. If we could establish a deep, abiding relationship with nature, we would never kill an animal for our appetite, we would never harm, vivisect, a monkey, a dog, a guinea pig for our benefit. We would find other ways to heal our wounds, heal our bodies. But the healing of the mind is something totally different. That healing gradually takes place if you are with nature, with that orange on the tree, and the blade of grass that pushes through the cement, and the hills covered, hidden, by the clouds.
Posted by sean on January 1, 2017
https://sd-stewart.com/2017/01/01/a-feeling-for-all-living-things/
life’s splendor forever lies in wait
“Life’s splendor forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come.”
– Franz Kafka
(thanks to kafkaesque-world for summoning Kafka’s splendor)
Posted by sean on September 2, 2014
https://sd-stewart.com/2014/09/02/lifes-splendor-forever-lies-in-wait/
words from winterreise by gerhard roth
“I always think that life still lies ahead of me, as though I had organized my previous life only for a short while and I were about to start my real life not too far in the future,” thought Nagl.
“It all simply happens to me,” he kept thinking. “I live from day to day, without asking many questions. Mostly I take everything for granted so that I don’t think about it. I don’t resist, nor do I give in, nor do I tell myself I have no choice.”
—Gerhard Roth, Winterreise
Posted by sean on July 22, 2014
https://sd-stewart.com/2014/07/22/words-from-winterreise-by-gerhard-roth/
the town
The highest point of the town held a water tower and once I rode down that hill on my scooter using my new shoe as a brake and when I reached the bottom I found the scooter’s tire had burned a big gash into the heel of my shoe.
The lowest point of the town held a lake and once I stubbed my toe in its silty bottom resulting in a trip to the doctor who poked holes in my toenail to relieve the pressure.
The town took away and it gave and it took away and it gave, sometimes it left parts of itself in me, parts that had to be removed, other times the parts remained encysted and grew into hard black stones that never went away.
The town visits me now, frequently, in my dreams. It is the setting for all types of absurd scenarios, completely unrelated to actual events, only tapping memory for details of setting, and even then playing sly with the facts, bending and shaping, but always leaving things just recognizable enough.
I find this unsettling as the town means nothing to me in my present life and I have not been there in many years. There is nothing there for me now. And yet it is the skeleton of my early life. The streets are the bones. There is a house somewhere that serves as the skull, with windows like eyeholes, looking out onto a world I was seeing for the first time.
I feel a pull toward the town and I don’t know why. I think it is the aching for a home, a place I know so well it is a part of me, inseparable from who I am and what I do. A known setting for my life, however I choose to live it, with scenery grown like vines through my blood and bones. The place where it all starts and ends. Home.
Posted by sean on December 3, 2012
https://sd-stewart.com/2012/12/03/the-town/
tuesdayish
On Walking Backwards
My mother forbad us to walk backwards. That is how the dead walk, she would say. Where did she get this idea? Perhaps from a bad translation. The dead, after all, do not walk backwards but they do walk behind us. They have no lungs and cannot call out but would love for us to turn around. They are victims of love, many of them.
–Anne Carson, Plainwater
Couples who walk around with their hands in each others’ back pockets proclaim a clear statement, I think. And that statement is, we don’t mind you watching us grab each others’ butts.
There are ghosts. And they haunt us. This can happen in nontraditional ways.
People work harder to make their lives easier.
At work we now have the same meeting every week, but every other week it is called something different. This, I believe, is some kind of trick.
I am waffling over something, and this makes me hungry for waffles.
Sometimes a piece of mail can frighten you. Imagine the worst, then wait awhile to open it. I don’t advise this.
Plans make me nervous. Once I’ve made a plan or been made aware of a plan that involves me, I often secretly wish for it to unravel. I’m not sure why.
Open statement to any UK policy-makers landing here as a result of a Google search:
Please don’t cull the badgers.
Posted by sean on October 23, 2012
https://sd-stewart.com/2012/10/23/tuesdayish/

