Trip Trip Trip

Although I ditched my second day of work most likely putting me on pins and needles with my boss, it was worth it. Trips are my favorite part of STAC so far, it brings us closer together. Our group spent most of the time getting lost but we ended up in some interesting places in result.
I didn't really understand the show, only because I struggled to see most of it. That and I passed out after intermission. Sorry. I did get that the main character and his mother had a bad relationship, other relationship problems, and that led to him almost killing himself. But I'm hoping to be clued in tomorrow.
I loved the Pratt gallery most. I understood psychogeography a bit more after seeing it. My favorite was the perspective of the city in gelatin. I liked how the artist portrayed the city, how fragile it is, and how it could topple over any second. Amazing.
I hope they fire me.

Explanation

When I first read "liminal space" in the attached assignment, I literally pictured myself sitting in a corner, watching the room closing in on me. No space. No air. Just a shrinking room. A claustrophobic's nightmare. I went with my first instinct and shot corners in my house. Some frequently sat in, some not. There's literally liminal space. When I think of liminal space, I think crowded, hard to breathe, and tight. Exactly like a corner, sitting in a corner.

Pyschogeography Part Deux

The Explanation

The idea came to mind while I walking through my house the next morning. It was too obvious for me to think of.
There are certain areas, and objects I avoid routinely. The pictures are in order of what I see first to last in my day. Either because it's been branded into my head by my parents or it's just a pet peeve of mine.
Picture explanation:

Carpet threshold: there was just a scarring moment when I was younger and barefoot where it was way too cold. Not a big deal you say? Well I cried. Now I hop over it. And wear socks.

Door bumper: another traumatic event. When I was younger I tripped over it and banged my chin on the tile. Again. I cried.

Old concealer: I don't know how long it's been there but long enough for it to have grown some sort of mucus-y fungus (the green thing). I also don't know why it's never occured to anyone to throw it out. I still haven't thrown it out, even after taking the pictures. My arm turns into a noodle everytime I have to get something behind it. I touched it once by accident and immediately washed my hands. Twice.

Cracked tile: I don't like stepping on it.

Drain: When I was younger, once again, I was taking a shower and without realizing it a bar of soap had somehow made its way on top of the drain making the water level rise. It went up to my knees, I was shorter, and I nearly had a heart attack. I have a fear of whales and I imagined myself in the ocean and they were going to get me.

Shadow: the main focus is the shadow on the right side. I only step on the parts of the floor with light on them. At night I have a personally carrier. He carries me.

Rip in the rug: there's wood under the rug. I went exploring, yes when I was younger, to find out if it was really wood. I got a splinter.

Display: "This is worth more than you."

Display number 2: "This is worth even more..."

Storage room: It's cold and dusty and last I was in there a cricket jumped on my leg.

What I Avoid Touching in My House

SO HUNGRY. I AM. SO HUNGRY.

I hate Yom Kippur. I really shouldn't be on the internet right now. But I also really shouldn't have done my psychogeography project all morning either. But it's done, and I really like it. It will be uploaded sometime tomorrow. I know. The suspense is killing you.