directions / distractions

its october 21st, a somewhat rainy night at butzenstrasse tram station, nearby where i stay. I exceeded the amount of tea beans poured into the night tea. It was a strong tea with a sugar laced puffy rusk like biscuit.

A stand alone lamp faces another light on the ceiling. A light on the kitchen hobs is also lit. Trams pass by every few minutes or so.

a life long pain of knowing what is mental illness, what is drawing are troubling me. I have identified points of drawing in the city. I know the city now only through its washroom places. i need to pee often and keep walking for peeing points. I know the city from its water fountains which have no taps. they are open and running like a waterfall. i stop everytime i see one to drink. The sipping is like a dog knowing where to pee.

I am not a dog and i have not seen a single stray dog in the city. maybe they buried them under the river. a river i once heard was a passage for ships to italy or from italy. I am not sure what is upward or downward.

I am disturbed as my research is never ending. From the swiss psychiatrist research of mental patients to drawing in the city, to a point of knowing what is a material, form, line, space, to what is a workshop to seeing the space at Rote fabrik in the end as an activity place, i am unsure of everything. All i know is when i walk, i will find a place to pee. And that too not on the road side, inside someones home or on the train tracks, tram tracks, the side of the building, inside a bush, i will find a suitable washroom to pee, when i have to pee.

I eat at Migros, i see the sticker, it says 50 percent off, and i have one hour before it expires and i buy it and eat it outside the store before the fungus attacks my belly. I have a sensitive belly which will lead to farts if not treated well.

I carry a water bottle and i visit museums. I walk in the city and i look at buildings which are all aligned and well constructed as they have no holes, nor are they tilted.

From day 1 my budget has gone in buying sketchbooks and my brain. I realised i sold it the first day and now i can not afford to buy it at one go, so i keep buying bit by bit at the Migros store. I drink coffee but i steal the milk packets. I steal them to have it in my room. I love those cream packets.

I shower alone. I have a single shower curtain which if attempted to open completely will fall off on me and i will fall with it on the toilet seat along with my leg going into the mirror above the sink. if that happens, you will see my tooth brush and neem flavoured tooth paste brough from india.

I want to read and so i read comic books which i have been buying from Day 1. they are in french, german, italian and swiss german and i can not read anything of these languages so i just keep watching NDTV news and why this person was killed and why the killers were seen on the CCTV and why did this happen to that ?

I love these comic books as it teaches me something about drawing, about tones, about newspaper dots which create a shadow effect different from how i create a shadow. I love butter chicken and i have not eaten a single piece since being here in zurich so i just eat turkey, goat, lamb, fish, chicken and pork. I eat when it is 50 to 75 percent off.

I work near a lake which is too crystal clear and i did not fall off while coming down the hill. I sketched once but i have identified too many spots in the city. the city has too many benches, too many clocks, too many watches, too many people sitting on benches, too many shops, too less ships in the river or lake and no cockroaches.

I keep my tongue open for mosquitos and i carry all the pens needed to draw. I have bought dream sketchbooks. I can go on buying sketchbooks and blow my budget on sketchbooks. I will not swim the lake but i will cycle around it and run it.

Note on drawing recently turned into notes on my pajama. Its 12:05 now. The notes on drawing as follows. The clay has hardened to become a rock to draw on. The spring like wire with white fluffy hair on it bends like line in the air. the blue pencil is magical when scanned as it hides itself in the bit map format. Photoshop is not photoshop anymore but a passage into another world.

The tram is always on time and the tram will never run you over. There are more museums than people here. I eat one chocolate a day.

The pen line once taken out of paper always translates into scale. And seated on the tram always translates into a seat on the train and out of swiss country. As if everything is outside this space and nothing here. But everything is here.

And the main centre is a place called HB. it is the centre of centre. It is the central railway station. You touch it to walk and go anywhere you may like. it is home for now. it has a migros and many quick stores. It has a paper store which sells you paper to make paper cut outs and then only you can make a paper cut out.

the trains never collide or slip from the hills. No sound is offensive. except the sound of my slipping pajama.

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