G • S
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
GLASGOW
the two stood in darkness, lit only by the slippers of Peter Pan's children glu'd to their feet
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Monday, 29 March 2010
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Friday, 19 March 2010
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
A LULLABY
BRINGING PIXELS
...TO LIFE...
flip Bontempi switch on
choose a pen and imagine
between black tape
the box is yours
illustrate with words or
t h o u g h t s
once you're dun
pop the on off filling vacant
space
make piece complete
choose a pen and imagine
between black tape
the box is yours
illustrate with words or
t h o u g h t s
once you're dun
pop the on off filling vacant
space
make piece complete
...AND THAT...
Thank you the Ministry of Progress for inviting me to contribute to their exhibition, I was given the opportunity to meet such wonderful minds and convene in what was once an unknown territorial form of London but is now a place suitable for my hands to kindle with a squirrel.
I'd happily kindle for a squirrel.
The piece itself (A broken, discordant Bontempi fan-organ signified what was to be documented, it's relentless drone the subject matter) was an ongoing celebration of documentation existing outside of the individual or the completed project – an attempt to distance reified connotations from the form of 'documentary' photography (in addition to the various forms of artistic endeavours).
With 'documentary' photography, the audience are lured into a pattern of beliefs (constructed by family values, common sense and social formalities) of which they are already well aware of. A relationship of dislocated power now takes place...The author exists as a transparent entity, unseen in the act of appropriation. A thievery of their audience's sense. With this process of 'documentation', the moralities provide evidence for a static truth, inevitably constructing a signified essence of Fact – Fact being an idea of which one is able to create a materialized fiction.
I'd happily kindle for a squirrel.
The piece itself (A broken, discordant Bontempi fan-organ signified what was to be documented, it's relentless drone the subject matter) was an ongoing celebration of documentation existing outside of the individual or the completed project – an attempt to distance reified connotations from the form of 'documentary' photography (in addition to the various forms of artistic endeavours).
With 'documentary' photography, the audience are lured into a pattern of beliefs (constructed by family values, common sense and social formalities) of which they are already well aware of. A relationship of dislocated power now takes place...The author exists as a transparent entity, unseen in the act of appropriation. A thievery of their audience's sense. With this process of 'documentation', the moralities provide evidence for a static truth, inevitably constructing a signified essence of Fact – Fact being an idea of which one is able to create a materialized fiction.
And we wouldn't want to be living in a world of other peoples self-initiated fictions, right?
If time is to exist in relation to cultural matter as a linear entity and spatially as a progressive, gentle, fritter between dimensions, the author stating imagery as having been 'documented' exaggerates the imaginary into fact, the chosen figures blossom in a system of subjectivity intextuated by the author (and their carefully selected socio-historical contexts – which in turn regurgitates the process of those select few re-enacting this 'documentary' process of the past, moulding what once was into a structure of sense for those already in the know).
With this in mind the piece is incomplete – an ongoing documentary in itself, processing the act of do-ing and creation as and when it happens, allow the reader, the audience and the individual to document their surroundings as and when it was happening, filaments singing with paper, eFactist's the lot of them..
∆
Friday, 12 March 2010
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
A DREAM – 05/03/10
I held a slither of my brothers face,
stroking left cheek.
his eye still staring
the lids holding us in.
dismembered.
he had sent himself.
humans at war with the rainbows,
i never understand.
dispatched to translucency in
a place they call home
as we watch the rise
of an absent shade,
the sky indescribable,
a flash-pan of startling intrusions.
smoke rippling
where bodies explode
due to gun fire impact from below.
arching towards the right,
over a dragons shoulder
i see the ripple...
"that was him"
have you ever lived without a doubt?
neither had i, but this new light was real.
squidge between fingertips
what, how and when do i reveal
his death to my sister?
patience, problems, the waiting game.
perhaps mother first?
a tricky procedure to endure
with the tear process restricting my grip on the words,
tendents freeze.
contacts disable.
horror.
my mobile phone is out of credit.
stroking left cheek.
his eye still staring
the lids holding us in.
dismembered.
he had sent himself.
humans at war with the rainbows,
i never understand.
dispatched to translucency in
a place they call home
as we watch the rise
of an absent shade,
the sky indescribable,
a flash-pan of startling intrusions.
smoke rippling
where bodies explode
due to gun fire impact from below.
arching towards the right,
over a dragons shoulder
i see the ripple...
"that was him"
have you ever lived without a doubt?
neither had i, but this new light was real.
squidge between fingertips
what, how and when do i reveal
his death to my sister?
patience, problems, the waiting game.
perhaps mother first?
a tricky procedure to endure
with the tear process restricting my grip on the words,
tendents freeze.
contacts disable.
horror.
my mobile phone is out of credit.
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
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