what to do with myself now

i'm at something of a loss this morning. last night i emailed my second chapter to the rest of my thesis committee, and i've decided not to jump back into the third chapter until after this morning's half-Canadian meeting.

Maybe I'll start using capital letters, but this is beside the point.

The point is that I thought about regurgitating the entirety of the 12 days of Christmas as a single post, but decided it was too much cutting and pasting. Instead, here are the highlights, although I'm not certain if i got the meter right.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: twelve hours working, eleven prime numbers, ten icy minutes, nein! dancing ladies, eight line of verse, seven hours waiting, six senseless sayings,

five broken things

four boding starts, three cups of coffee, two films of Welles, and a dead pig by the roadside.

(Now that that's out of my system...)

Unsurprisingly, there's a preoccupation with units of time in the above lyrics. Somehow I managed to work in some minutes and two sets of hours, and although this wasn't intentional, I consider it a happy accident nonetheless – especially given the song's penchant for repetition.

These same concerns, along with memory, are the foci of my thesis; and yesterday I spent an hour talking with one of my committee members. He told me our conversations made him feel like he was in the Lacanian Real, which I took as a compliment.

Lacan's borromean knot - am I the symptom in the middle?

The interesting thing about the above image – these interlocking circles – is that it has a curious similarity to the mandala and yantra designs prevalent in parts of Asia:

stone sculpture from India

carving from a mausoleum in Central Asia

Hmmm...