siting in a room with one hundred hands
siting in a room with one hundred hands
sometimes i’m so straight people think i’m crazy
As regards the stunt – I liked it. By and large, we knew that such a stunt was being prepared. I didn’t catch what they were saying.
So much for the exterior. And what happened inside didnt leave any clear traces. There was something arousing.
Everyone knows, you can’t predict an earthquake.
sources are tapped when required to enhance the perceptual interplay
It’s terrifying to look at the present and recognize that rather than ending this kind of violence we have democratized it.
I was baffled by two things: one, that God would be calling me,
a dissonance, a change in rhythm. While on the outside everything happens with the vertiginous rhythm of a cataract, on the inside is the exhausted adagio of drops of water falling from time to tired time. For this reason the outside, seen from the inside, appears absurd and unreal, and constitutes ‘the farce we all must play’.
the cycle was more unpredictable because very little was known
I wouldn’t say I see anything to lead me to believe that this is a different kind of cycle
in voice-over: “Now it’s time to open a second parenthesis, and to describe the emotions of the characters.” It cuts out three more times,
objects that then reshape themselves or self-assemble over time
He didnt speak, but every now and then he would stretch his leg out and look at his foot with a terrified expression. This foot wore a boot, but the other foot was in a slipper…
I felt in my hand a cold object which attracted my attention by means of a sort of personality. I opened my hand and looked: I was holding the doorknob.
To do. To do by not doing. To do for no reason. To not do for many reasons. To do without giving a shit what one is doing. The desire to do something. Not to do Art. To do because in a moment it was the thing to do. For no logic other than an inexplanable desire to do it. To do through being. Being open to affects that cause unexpected doings.
A manner of gathering, whether of objects or experiences. An interweaving stream of consciousness and material encounters.
So on my way home I get off at Pearse. an unusual stop for me. Walk in. End up in Sweny’s a magical old chemist bookstore. It seems like it would have a hand. I go in and look around. It is wonderful. Old bottles. Wood shelves. Books about fragments of an old but disused chemist. Two gentlemen one orderly the other rather non description but covert. The older chap starts in about Walsh from my asking about the day it being Easter and how was business. He proceeds to go into some depth but is far over my head and I have no idea what this clerk with Bow tie, white lab coat and Dali like facial hair is recalling. History of the Walsh. CUT He then explains they do Joyce readings there and points to chairs lined up with cushions behind the counter. CUT I ask if they by chance have a spare hand for me. He then reaches or my third hand and examines it. Detailing or rather reading it. It is an artistic hand he indicates knowingly. You can tell by the two centre fingers pointing inward of each other. The line at the base of the thumb where he points and says this line means a medium will be located. I fade as he twists the hand round and says something followed by this means they are intelligent. He states a few other observations. He finally is reading my palm. He looks at my hand and re states the previous…
Slipping between the boundaries of categorisations.
We begin to see the circle but only have a blind sense of whats encircled.
Rapture comes with the something deeper that cannot be seen or understood. I think it tends to cause a rupture.
Absolutely. Beauty grows as the edge of the circle shimmers defining something deeper than a surface.
A beauty is not suddenly in a circle. It comes with rapture. A great deal of beauty is rapture. A circle is a necessity. Otherwise you would see no one. We each have our circle.
go go go go
something’s catching up
ooops wasnt expecting that
It brings up the whole subject object question. Is there a point that a voice becomes an object independent of its speaker?
There is something regarding ‘displacement’ at play within the works that leaves one disconcerted.
Let me (or you) listen to me (or you) and not to them (the audience).
An audience is always warming but it must never be necessary to your work.
We’re in the same terrain. Though i’m thinking about voices coming together to create an indecipherable noise that obscures meaning and a subjective source. Voices coming together outside and beyond the subject somehow. Early stages. I guess its a kind of harmony too.
Harmony. Individual voices coming together that last only a breath.
Absolutely. Perhaps idealistic, maybe even utopian, but im with you. So we direct our attention to the audience and kind of speak through them. As in, rather than bouncing a ball between you and me, we bounce the ball via the audience so that they direct the conversation as much as we do. Its quite different to the description you wrote but that just helps in disrupting expectations.
Expectations. What people are accustom to and come to be comfortable with. The interviewer reveals as much by the questions they ask as the interviewee declares through their response. Spaulding Gray would get people from the audience and basically interview/talk with them. This could be a means to disrupt the situation of the “artist talk” and the parameters around what has come to frame it. I suppose I have a tendency to establish a scenario where its very nature demarks it’s objective and its devised so that it can be interjected and have its trajectory malleable by these gestures. But don’t think this is any way a means of sidestepping definition but a communal space where we can all speak and create meaning together.
Its a good objective to have. Totally with you. Also what i want as a viewer or participant. Links with openness but also translation. What happens to an affect in its movement from affecter to affected; from desired affect to received affect. Then there is also another thing when it is an inbetween object/subject that is the host to affects coming from multiple sides. Perhaps thats what we want with the conversation…
I am affected. It’s in equal parts. That is the objective.
Are you saying youre not affected? But want to be?
Living is to affect and be affected. A continuous exchange.
What else can a thought be but caught between things? It seems inherent within language itself.
Thoughts as the product of material interconnections rather than some unique subject.