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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon

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I wish I could always put my best energy where I want it.  Back when I held the idea that I could do one thing on the side of another, I had this problem. Now that life is a runonsentence of chaotic motion in all directions, I have still have this problem.  Maybe it’s a matter of prioritizing and organization.  Survival can be a convincing priority.

Hopefully we find work to be something more than our 40 hours gone in exchange for 128 to be acceptable.  Work is often an identity to be and then not be.  Some attempt for just one identity, and aim their energy to assuming that identity.  I long for work to reflect its value more accurately.  I long for working one job to be enough.

 

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my shared warehouse studio

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There will be days, and long strings of those days, where we show up and hang on while we kick with both feet.  Countless daily activities will one day be recalled as maybe one or two things that got done, because we afforded ourselves to do them.  Maybe we’ll be closer to our work emerging as we aspire.  We work to work.  Or we work at working, need work to make work, deal with work to love work: these things I tell myself as I push a machine across grass or wash 300 wedding cake plates.  I’m joyfully (more or less) getting closer to work feeling like work, and less like an expense of energy to leave me as a left-over tupperware box of casserole.

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last one standing

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