Saturday, February 21, 2009

the hardest part is yet to come

Now leaving Pictorialism, now entering, approaching/appropriating Pop Art, apparently. An aesthetic arrived at sideways, and from behind, approaching from an historical vector, the foundational approach, I suppose: starting at the beginning and progressing, in upward steps, towards the pinnacle, which is always one step ahead, so that someday, hopefully, I will always be in the present. The strategy now appears to be clear, which may require subversion, or perhaps a strategy of undermining, in order to find some new direction, upwards maybe but diagonal, or even parallel, the direction or shape not really important but just the surprise at what is produced with each generative step, each action also a possibility, so that stepping is of itself the purpose for stepping, an action is an action, perfect equal relationship, self-reflexive, self-affirming motion: yes, I am stepping. I stepped from Pictorialism into Modernism and am currently stepping through Modernism into Pop Art, and the beginnings of an 80's Postmodernism have already emerged, as well as an interest in work dealing with questions of medium and media, so that I have become of multiple eras, and am seeking to connect them all, to give depth to each project by drawing them from a basic proposition outside of themselves, an idea in abstract, an axiom which gives form to the steps: Life is energy. Life is the ability to move, in any small increment, however passively, as well, so that a child in a coma at least breathes, has a heart that beats, however softly, and that is energy, and that is life, and a leaf, too, falling to the ground, blown across concrete by wind, has energy, too, and is life, and surely the sparks of a fire, and surely the restless ocean, surely the stars that shine, and even the bedrock of the earth shifts, life, which is energy.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Development, Inevitably

Untitled [No possession, no expectations]

Experimental Youth Romance

Forget the influence, I was under you.

Is certainty desirable? Is permanence ideal? I'm a rolling stone, I'm gathering moss. I wander the country, I won't leave the house. Let's get out of here, just stay with me. But contradictions aren't surprising; I'm not impressed by those commas. I'm faking a stance of disappointment, because it's expected. You got semi-colons, you 're connected. Each fully fleshed idea connecting one to the next, by punctuated phrases, by alliterative consonants, continually concerned with the crushes of others, collected. Cute. Ace in the pocket, high above your head, the miasma of denial and inaction, hiding under a hoodie, in the corner with your criticism. Did you catch all that? Did it fall through your fingers, weightless, lacking content? Each rain drop holds a secret - drink it in, toxic as honesty.

(to be updated)

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Old Enough to Care

Teen Drama

She said I wouldn't be caught dead
She said let's go to my place instead
I looked at the books she read
I didn't hear a word she said

Try standing still
Try being real

She didn't say a word
As I turned out the light
She didn't say a word
And it didn't feel right

Try standing still
Try being real