Every other Wednesday I get to pick up my CSA vegetable share, which seemed appropriate, and extra exciting, as I had just finished that Michael Pollan book last night. Today I had been thinking a lot about completeness, a sense of being whole. Maybe because I feel a big surge of this sentiment, have control over all of my clothing while doing this project, but there is also something other than power that I think might embody what I imagine wholeness to be. This was mainly running through my head today as I ate lunch, not so much as I was in the studio, though I have also been listening to William James' The Varieties of Religious Experience (not very far, so I am not going to say much on this right now, but it was mentioned in the Pollan book as well as Oliver Saks' Hallucinations, which made an impact) which seems to dissect spiritual and religious practice and experience through several lenses, namely psychological, physiological, and social lenses, and I am sure that this had me thinking about wholeness. But anyway, while eating lunch, which was a nice mix of sundries produced or grown by small and/or local artisans or stuff I had made myself due to my CSA pick up, I was feeling particularly complete. I was thinking about the heart that went into all of the food I was eating and how that was directly affecting my experience of the food, my day, and my reflection on my own work. And so I started to think about happiness and what role completion plays towards finding and sustaining happiness. I used to ask people a question that I remember from Godard's Masculin Feminin, where one character asks another "what is the center of your world". He also constantly trying to flip cigarettes into his mouth throughout the whole movie and it is a great trick. When I saw this movie in maybe 2006, I answered this question for myself with "my discontentedness". I know it sounds kind of morbid now, but my reasoning was that this feeling of discontent, incompleteness if you will, was something that I felt fueled me towards progress, kept me striving for something better, kept my universe in orbit. There has been a huge shift in this perception seven years later, and I quite honestly think almost the exact opposite. I think the center of my world should be each singular moment, partaking wholeheartedly in earth, air, and thought. Even when those things are difficult and painstaking. I always look back on times of hardship with a bittersweet nostalgia, a juicy sentiment that normally gets me into a lot of trouble lusting after greener grasses, but I am actively putting as much effort into balancing control and vulnerability by fully participating in each complete moment. Despite the fact that this project is completely self inflicted, and that discussing the intensity of it here, may sound complain-y (which I mentioned never wanting to do), I just want to comment that this type of rigor through meaningful practice manifests an intensified experience of the singular moment for me. I guess maybe that is why some people work better on deadlines. Food tastes better, I feel aches and pains in a way that exhibits exertion, I budget my time well, my brain races... I am not suffering through anything, I am living. And finishing things each and every day while working towards a greater goal is a very efficient way to achieve entirety.