I do not portray being; I portray passing...My history needs to be adapted to the moment...I may indeed contradict myself now and then; but truth, as Demades said, I do not contradict."
-Michel de Montaigne
fossils from fern like scrolls:
a beautifully marked high altitude crystal
mass of feathers scattered upon glass
we are a beautiful example of two distinct types
one, graceful feathers with curling ends
the other, a design of frost from the land of pointed firs
the winter tabular hoar frost resembles
flesh becoming stairs, column, sky, and architecture
As I grieve the realization that you can live without me, my relief is a wave (in the most general scientific sense). We are fossils made from the sediment of past crimes, and this hardness preserved us. There is a place where the past is unremembered, but that place is less a space than a moment, where living organisms breathe disbelief.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
There are the mistakes we make after trying very hard without success, and the ones we make and attribute to divine intervention, for their favorable outcome. But I am interested in the tangibility of intention- the end we can attribute to ourselves, our perception, our experience, or our next step.
I feel temporary, the impulse of time's momentum relative to my actions, like I'm sifting through peanut butter, my thoughts fall like concrete from my ear to break my foot, the opposite of amnesia.
I recognize myself as an animal, most, in my impulses. And I think trying things over and over to eliminate mistakes is an evolution we can benefit from in our lifetime. So I am in love with momentum, and feel like a caged animal when I come to an unfamiliar point and don't know which way to go. I am learning the graceful way of going back the way I came, or leaving the path altogether. Some may call it quitting. But we are too temporary to attribute meaning to all of our mistakes. Sometimes patience prevails. Sometimes things are plain wrong. I am learning when to stop, abandon ship, give up, or quit in whatever connotation the situation requires. The truth is, leaving is movement.
Here is one thing I decided just won't work, for now.:
It was going to be a comprehensive catalogue of all the techniques I learned in my undergrad.
I was pretty far along in documenting the process, and close to finishing this task.
It's made from an old music techniques book, some of the record books that have pockets in which to hold the records, davey board, and fabric. I planned on finishing the
cover with an image transfer of the altered cover with my name, new title and content in place of the old technique book's title, and content.
I will return to this project, with a strong foundation for format, and a better understanding of durability in construction. I am really interested in categorizing information in the most efficient, usable form. For now, though, I am in Australia, working on a smaller scale, with ideas I can hold in my hands, while my mind takes in everything else.