Post Traumatic MA Syndrome

I sweep up the kipple from the garage floor; PLA printed fragments, crucifixes, metal filings, screws, wires and some valuable items I mislaid in the frantic rush to finish my final installation for the MA exhibition –  Echosystems .

After a route march with my wife in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Hebron, Ramallah and Armageddon I return to an anxious UK, an uncertain future for the country and one of the hottest October days on record.

The Autumn term for my MFA has already started and I havent a clue what I am doing back there, what I will do. I get up at five to ten each day, postponing my appearance at the breakfast table. Pee, swallow antidepressant, stare back in the mirror at this old unshaven face in the near darkness of the unlit bathroom. I am back in the deepest depression.

My marks for the past year arrive via email. The university have failed to meet up to ratify our marks so we cannot enrol. More cheerful emails arrive asking us to come in in spite of our supension in this academic bardo.

Debris in the workshop/garage is so deep – even the dog is reluctant to go in. I am ungrateful, for I am fortunate to have a private space to undertake my work. A steel work table, I specified to be at above waist height is piled with wrappers and servos, wire and electronic components.

I hurredly assemble a short presentation to give my peers and tutor with the review of the exhibition and what I intend to work on for this year. I choose surveillance and privacy – something that aroused my interest last year. I am still not sure what I should do.

At dinner on Sunday, an old friend of my wife (now a Professor) soothingly advised me not to worry as it is not uncommon to have self doubts at this stage. She also brought up the topic of (far-right) accelerationism and the disagreeable trajectory now embraced by the likes of Steve Bannon and Donald Trump.  Monday, I visit the library to obtain a copy of “#Accelerate, The Accelerationist Reader”

I watch Deleuze For The Desparate on YouTube, falling asleep exhausted during episode 3 at 3:30 in the afternoon.

I am certainly not interested in ‘groovy bass lines for grime tracks’ as my tutor breathingly lectures us in Advanced Audio-Visual Processing… I am an old man among virile young men an women, all excited to be there on their path to happiness. I feel like death.