Paris’s “Heavy Energy”

parissteustachesculptureblog“Heavy energy,” is how my friend E referred to the creative atmosphere in Paris. She said this as we hoovered bowls of Vietnamese noodles in Belleville with a fast concentration that was anything but heavy. Hearing her say it felt good. Heavy energy made sense. Or maybe it was “dark energy.” I forget now. parisian on the phoneBut either way, it put a name to what I have been experiencing over the past few months. I’ve been reprimanding myself lately for being slow to produce my own projects and writing outside of work, although it’s not just that because I know the production part is already difficult and can’t always be rushed—it’s more that my brain works slowly, and my motivation, which used to come in fire-like bursts, tends to be constant but dull, like a vibrating bass note. Sometimes I start to think I’m a casualty of the digital generation—one of those people who spends 92 percent of her waking hours looking at a computer or iPhone screen, constantly multitasking, always losing brain cells and attention capabilities.


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