Thursday, 18 May 2006

Mozart's Brain and the Fighter Pilot

I'm reading this wonderful book called Mozart's Brain and the Fighter Pilot by Richard Restak. It basically teaches us how to be smarter, "boosting our brain's cognitive performance by increasing alertness, concentration, memory, problem-solving ability, mental endurance and much more" with practical advices and 28 great examples of very simple exercises to improve our grey matter.

In one chapter Dr. Restak explains how our brain develop linkages when we associate things and says the more we link different things, the more we think clearly, better, more efficiently, outside the box. Ok, we knew that. But an interesting way to create new links is to think about two seemingly unrelated objects or things and link them somehow in a story, creating then new connections in the brain. His example is interesting but I'm feeling too lazy to describe it. Go buy the book and read it.

Another exercise suggested in that same chapter is to write random thoughts with as little conscious control as possible. He asks us to vomit words, than analyze your connections, tracking your thoughts, creating a brain map. Ok, your read Finnegans Wake and this is all very old to you. Fine. I wrote random thoughts a few times and the text below was my first try.

That building is a recollection of mysteries, renegade, hats in the wind and we live not knowing, but tomorrow will awake our fridges and laces to the point of exhaustion.
I recommend love but life keeps leaving me alone till I agree with you, subversive twat, enchants me with your malice and childlikeness in the rain, rather, in the drizzle, under it, over my thought that seems boring for somebody who wants to spit the world unfair, you stink. I'd rather be home, but I am so I cry, since my days are yet to come and I'm falling from the edge, the end of the flat board of wisdoms, shallowisms and hypocrisy.
Two oranges and a violin. He told me to make sounds, play instruments for tomorrow we'll be in a room together, making songs and singing sadness. Ideas of grandeur come to my head and I feel bad for screwing up the vibe. What?? I said tomorrow!! You never know what the day will bring, lady of the dead, princess without a castle, without a name, without.
I admire you, me, for we are strong and willing to be more and more each day. I won't let me bitter down the road, eating bread all day long, with coffee, alone. I don't like it.

I really tried to write randomly but it came out so neat! I don't know. Maybe I should snort a line of K and try again. Write your own random shit here if you feel like it. It's fun, and gives you insights on how your brain works. And then, change it!

Tuesday, 2 May 2006

On the other hand

I like cleaning. When I first moved to that squat in highgate I went mad, though. Those stairs with 3 inches of dust, never been mopped, windows were grey so much dirt, mushrooms growing happily in the bathrooms, filthy. I had a bedroom just for me in North Finchley, breakfast and dinner included, paid, but I met my ex on the stairs of that building when visiting a friend and went dumb. Moved in and started cleaning. Had to put up with an unbelievable amount of arrogance and mental illness and on the top of that do some extra thinking. That thinking wasn't mine.

I believe when we clean we think. We clean ourselves while cleaning our environment and an extremely dirty home means people who live there are not dealing with their mental issues. If I clean for myself, I deal with myself but if I clean someone else's place I'm thinking what them repressed twats should be thinking, not I. Well, it's gone, forgiven if not forgotten.

Nowadays I wipe my own table wiping those thoughts away. I can see resentments mingled with bleach in my bucket, which I flush down the drain blissfully. Cleaning my windows makes my sight reach the once remote and rinsing my dishes unblocks my stomach, setting adrift on my anxieties.

There's a healthy level of dirt of course, the biological dirt, natural, and healthy levels of unatural dirt as we could never get rid of all issues at once but I.m cultivating my own mess in my own house now. I have my own place, a new chapter of my life begins, and cleaning and thinking belongs to my baby and I alone.