Ice breaker

A common strategy to cement new relationships is to go through a harrowing experience together; it is a certified way to bond. With this in mind I have to say, with certainty, that my trip with M. to the Museum yesterday firmly established our budding friendship; not that the Museum in itself is extremely disturbing, but rather the new exhibition. Eric van Lieshout - a Dutchman, who has received critical acclaim for his "thought-provoking analysis of modern day society" this year - has exhibited some of the nodules of the minglement of his imagination and interpretation: yes, it sounds as scary as it reads. I thought his view on modern day society quite puerile if not downright idiotic, and the critical analysis diffusing that his work is thought-provoking is faulty beyond reason; his work did nothing of that sort. Thoughts were not provoked; I remained quite indifferent, and felt cheated. Luckily, M. thought exactly the same. Bond.

At any rate, we did enjoy the collection of paintings by true artists. Bond tightening. Modern art is often so bland, and devoid of depth. I'm not at all conservative in my tastes; on the contrary, I'm a staunch supporter of progress, whether in art, literature, or music. But, I'm a staunch supporter of a philosophically based progression; a movement rooted in a philosophy (a critical analysis of fundamental assumptions or beliefs). I care not for the random view of an individual if it's mere his anxieties put into words, paintings, music without a frame of reference; I cannot but be reminded of pubertal writings (poems!), drawings, and songs discharged under the influence of a changing hormonal balance. Incoherent projections. Eric van Lieshout's work is devoid of a philosophy; I could not detect a message in his work, a binding theme, something that would validate his work being there... in a Museum... for people to look at. If it weren't for the company of M. I would have been bored beyond belief.

I had not thought I would spend such a long time with M. We spent a good seven hours in each other's company. All in all, it was a very entertaining seven hours. Entertaining yet strained in some way. I found him rather tense. Not per se so because of me. I find his being so tense is his own doing, and the roots lie in his past - not unsurprisingly - and his current life. Also I sensed that he was not fully "present"; he was a little preoccupied... and kept checking his phone, which - of course - made me feel awkward.
I have had a nice enough day though; only the whole experience has left me puzzled. Perhaps, even a bit unsettled. It is a feeling I cannot explain; I think I do not have the energy to invest in new friendships, and M. is a person to whom I want, maybe even need, to give my full attention, and as I cannot give him that I'm pondering whether I should invest in this. All my friendships have reached that point of equilibrium; we are comfortable with each other, and we know and respect each other's wishes. It is going to take a while before he'll let his guard down. I'll just have to see how this will play out.

The fear of being alone is this:

The face of an empty bed
The eyes of which cause a rift
In the perfection in your head

(No drink can ever cloud
That)

The desperation of your hands
As they clasp open air
The strain on your spine as it bends
Toward a palpable nowhere

(No drink can ever cloud
That)

The empty lines on your wrist
(Where you lover's name used to beat)
Which his tapered lips once kissed
Will forever remain unfulfilled

(No amount of magick drink
Can ever cloud that)