Mode of exception, the norm.
State of emergency, the norm.
Presences of artificially generated fear, the norm.
In perpetual transit, I am endlessly waiting.
Spectacle.
Spectator.
Speck.
Reacting against our spectator culture, I move away from spectation toward production, not mechanized but sensualized by the hand, by my hand. Mind and body work in synch in a non-knowing knowing. Meaning emerges from labor. Consciousness swims out of the interweaving of mind and body. Visceral making—visceral knowing. It is my rebellion.
2 comments:
In your rebellion, you create/you produce a speck (of something...is it art?). Is that which results from your rebellion the next spectacle to be consumed by a spectator culture?
The problem that I have with the spectator culture is that they watch without feeling, without connection or context, without understanding or curiosity (the desire to understand). It seems to me that artists spectate\observe as everyone else. However, they take it step more. They mediate on that which they've seen, they attempt to understand and this struggle to find meaning combined with their own experience and perspective gives birth to their own interpretations, which result in the visceral making and knowing that becomes the artifacts of the artist.
The sense I get from your works and your writings about them is not that you plan to create a work of art works that achieves a certain aesthetic but the art works are rather remnants of a artistic experience.
Perhaps, one should not reply to a blog when tired.
A "remanant of...experience" is often only perceived in that delusional state just prior to sleep.
I see by your musings that you are artist; you are writer.
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