this is it for tonight, i promise. i’m making a lot of ink drawings this summer. click here to see some of them.
‘novelty architecture – house designed to look like machine from popular sci-fi film’
to help with this post, i’m listening to sonic youth.
i’ve been trolling (or trawling, i suppose), through virtual acres of images in poorly structured (by me), filing systems on the laptop and the hard drive, trying to find relevant work with which to populate this website. there’s too much. there’re also piles of poorly organised (also by me), real drawings and paintings, some of which have corresponding photos, some of which have never been photographed and some of which have changed three times since they were last photographed. it’s unnerving. it makes me think about vomit. about wanting to vomit because it seems like getting organised is an insurmountable task. or, in a more symbolic way, the vomiting up of all this expression, everything that’s come out in all the brushstrokes and gestures and marks and glued together bits of paper. and that makes me think about bleakness and unpleasantness and gothic discomfort, for some reason. i like bleak and unpleasant, i’m just not very good at it. a lot of my work seems to be, on the surface…almost funny, or funny in an oddly detached sort of way, or sometimes placid and calm, or sometimes frantic and busy. but bleak? not so much. but i did find this. so, maybe there’s hope.
i’ve been rearranging objects i pick up on the beach. mostly limpet shells, but also other stuff: bits of old pottery, glass, stones, and recently pieces of brick and terra cotta. here’s a project i did a couple weeks ago: brickworks. yesterday, i made two or three small repairs to ‘brickworks’ and had several pieces of brick (13, in fact) leftover. so i lined them up in a different spot on the beach and took a photo, then uploaded that photo to the machine and then looked at it for awhile and then found something…
remember i trained for many years to be able to do this.