So what, when, and where is consciousness?
“You can’t ask for it because you don’t know what to ask for. But it is just arrives and you accept that you’ve generated it, but it looks as if it just came from heaven.”
“You can’t ask for it because you don’t know what to ask for. But it is just arrives and you accept that you’ve generated it, but it looks as if it just came from heaven.”
My mind is screaming “Structure? Forget structure!” but the only thing I can seem to focus on is the game of Cricket on television and the thin layer of moisture covering my body, causing the crumbs on the couch cushion to stick to my legs. I spent the last hour listening to a lecture given by Hilary Montel on Film and Drama; Though very helpful, it has caused me to fall into a downward spiral of creative frustration and confusion (the term ‘downward spiral’ is debatable). I notice my lips are chapped when I realized that my style of writing falls in sync with my actual thoughts on structure- what a coincidence.
This also brings to my attention another topic I have caught myself chewing on a lot lately: your subconscious. Just as I found myself rubbing my chapped lips moments ago, I have found myself falling into another downward spiral of (very) conscious frustration and confusion. So where do I stand? There seems to be a state of mind where I remain stationary, somewhere between hopelessness and invincibility. A lack of structure and style follows.
Naturally, my mind is now screaming “But to step out for a just a moment means I have to pay attention to things that are actually happening!” like how I don’t know a single thing about Cricket, which I’ve been “watching” for the past thirty minutes. I suppose this is when I talk about my day, aside from listening to lectures and falling victim to self-doubt… my day was rather uneventful, but quite encouraging for the most part. I went on a tour of the home I will be working in this Sunday, the 29th. Two young men in their twenties live there, both with severe mental disabilities. I will be working a six hour shift maintaining the boys’ daily structure and activities, which include, but are not limited to: watching movies, walks, snacks, trips to the grocery store, and creative activities. The momentary job will lend me the experience and clarity in regards to my hazy future as a possible art therapist, so to say I am excited is an understatement! After a tour of the house and a brief introduction to one of the young men I will be working with, I headed to the Brisbane mall to grab a bite to eat with Rob, the worker that kindly offered me the job. I enjoyed a burger topped with caramelized onions and barbeque sauce and a side of ‘chips’. Rob and I debated the pronunciation of ‘caramelised’ and the use of an ‘s’ or ‘z’. Needless to say, I lost to the confident Aussie sitting across from me.
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