Sounds: roaring sea, birdsong. Smell: fresh green, earth.
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Treen
Just arrived back in London after a week camping in Cornwall. Still glowing with the wonder of it. A glimpse:
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
The Canal
We took these yesterday, on a delicious walk from Broadway Market to Regent's Park, all across North London and along the canal. Beasts to follow.
My favourites..
My favourites..
Sunday, 2 May 2010
Novalis Essay
Re: post below...
Writing an essay on Novalis' text Fichte Studies. Mostly I'm thinking about how to re-enact the movements he employs in both the concepts he explores and the flow of his text.
The movement is like this:
One thing moves forward. It meets something that divides it into two. Two things move forward. They meet something that synthesises them back together. Synthesis is more ideal than real and there is a discrepancy in the resolution. This pulls the thing ever more forward towards its resolution.
That probably seems really dull, but somehow I find it fascinating. Lets apply it to something:
I, a person/subject/consciousness posit myself and am promptly divided into two by this positing. The act of reflection on myself slices me into myself and my knowledge of myself, I become two. The two parts of me seek identity (what is known as an 'absolute I') and this search for absolutisation propels me forward. Identity is an ideal that I strive for but it is unachievable. The quest propels me forward.
I am not quite sure yet whether the is a convincing closure to the movement or not.
I want to write about the rhythm of the text and how the ideas Novalis posits follow their own momentum - a rhythmic, choreographical movement.
Flow.
It's a rain all day kind of day outside. Quite beautiful.
Writing an essay on Novalis' text Fichte Studies. Mostly I'm thinking about how to re-enact the movements he employs in both the concepts he explores and the flow of his text.
The movement is like this:
One thing moves forward. It meets something that divides it into two. Two things move forward. They meet something that synthesises them back together. Synthesis is more ideal than real and there is a discrepancy in the resolution. This pulls the thing ever more forward towards its resolution.
That probably seems really dull, but somehow I find it fascinating. Lets apply it to something:
I, a person/subject/consciousness posit myself and am promptly divided into two by this positing. The act of reflection on myself slices me into myself and my knowledge of myself, I become two. The two parts of me seek identity (what is known as an 'absolute I') and this search for absolutisation propels me forward. Identity is an ideal that I strive for but it is unachievable. The quest propels me forward.
I am not quite sure yet whether the is a convincing closure to the movement or not.
I want to write about the rhythm of the text and how the ideas Novalis posits follow their own momentum - a rhythmic, choreographical movement.
Flow.
It's a rain all day kind of day outside. Quite beautiful.
Still Intending
Hola!
Grappling a bit with intention again. Not only trying to decide what I want this blog to become, but wondering how to make the changes take hold of me enough to make me apply them.
For the sake of bringing abstract theoretical thoughts into life, it might be nice to post regularly about the philosophy I'm studying and how it interacts with life.
Gonna try this.
Grappling a bit with intention again. Not only trying to decide what I want this blog to become, but wondering how to make the changes take hold of me enough to make me apply them.
For the sake of bringing abstract theoretical thoughts into life, it might be nice to post regularly about the philosophy I'm studying and how it interacts with life.
Gonna try this.
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
Continuity? Consistency?
I haven't posted for three months. The lack of continuity bothers me, but I don't necessarily think inspiration should be forced. My main reasoning was that I haven't had easy internet access. And when studying I think things are going in rather than coming out. Now I'm wandering if I'll start to produce again...
I started this blog last year when I was still in Crete, and it amazes me now how far away that world seems. I miss all the creative activity and the great openness I felt. England, the winter, the loss of light, and work work work have dampened me somewhat. I still hold aloft the ideal of that wonderful sense of inspiration again.
Is this an end post, a new beginning post or just a stop gap?
I started this blog last year when I was still in Crete, and it amazes me now how far away that world seems. I miss all the creative activity and the great openness I felt. England, the winter, the loss of light, and work work work have dampened me somewhat. I still hold aloft the ideal of that wonderful sense of inspiration again.
Is this an end post, a new beginning post or just a stop gap?
It's been a long time coming...
These images were taken on a ramble through Hertfordshire in February, the day before Valentine's Day. They are probably a bit dreary, but then English Winter is.
Tree lines and structures...
Tree lines, rivers, routes, veins, lungs....
Monday, 4 January 2010
Monday, 21 December 2009
The Sky's The Limit
Crossing the bridge this morning I watched a small gull swoop down from on high, loitering slightly over the surface of the Thames, flying artfully -twist- playfully.
I thought about how that must feel, and I thought that the bird was my outer limits of experience, taking me flying while I sit in the bus.
I want to revive the ancient art of augury. (Maybe not the bit about entrails though).
I thought about how that must feel, and I thought that the bird was my outer limits of experience, taking me flying while I sit in the bus.
I want to revive the ancient art of augury. (Maybe not the bit about entrails though).
Saturday, 19 December 2009
Thursday, 3 December 2009
Linking Hodgepodge
Sound of an aeroplane descending echoes my growing doubt.
Today I have been buzzing off of:
http://kvond.wordpress.com/2009/12/02/humanities-and-ponzi-just-what-secures-the-investment-of-thought/
Great post on the Humanities and the market.
http://www.omniglot.com/blog/?p=1955
Different names for the moon.
http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TEDBlog/~3/QHOOODxvVIg/cindy_gallop_ma.php
Problematic film and interview that I like (Make Love Not Porn) because I would too like to see a greater awareness of the language and tropes of pornography and its effect on our sexuality - without necessarily taking an anti-pornography stance. But, as the interview rolls on, it is clear that Cindy Gallop operates from within the media and marketing, the market, and this throws the luxury of thinking porn without the bad effects into doubt.
http://ubu.artmob.ca/sound/dial_a_poem_poets/giorno_waldman/Giorno-Waldman_02_waldman_fast.mp3
This rocks! A mantra-like charmer, seducer, trance inducer that just makes me feel great about being a woman.
http://www.cinestatic.com/infinitethought/2009/12/proletarian-university.asp
Nina Power's posts continually keep me on my toes and give me lasting thought.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/audio/AGAT-WomenOfTheAvantGardeP2-112409.mp3
Sounds of the vagina anyone? UbuWeb is just amazing.
Today I have been buzzing off of:
http://kvond.wordpress.com/2009/12/02/humanities-and-ponzi-just-what-secures-the-investment-of-thought/
Great post on the Humanities and the market.
http://www.omniglot.com/blog/?p=1955
Different names for the moon.
http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TEDBlog/~3/QHOOODxvVIg/cindy_gallop_ma.php
Problematic film and interview that I like (Make Love Not Porn) because I would too like to see a greater awareness of the language and tropes of pornography and its effect on our sexuality - without necessarily taking an anti-pornography stance. But, as the interview rolls on, it is clear that Cindy Gallop operates from within the media and marketing, the market, and this throws the luxury of thinking porn without the bad effects into doubt.
http://ubu.artmob.ca/sound/dial_a_poem_poets/giorno_waldman/Giorno-Waldman_02_waldman_fast.mp3
This rocks! A mantra-like charmer, seducer, trance inducer that just makes me feel great about being a woman.
http://www.cinestatic.com/infinitethought/2009/12/proletarian-university.asp
Nina Power's posts continually keep me on my toes and give me lasting thought.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/audio/AGAT-WomenOfTheAvantGardeP2-112409.mp3
Sounds of the vagina anyone? UbuWeb is just amazing.
Saturday, 7 November 2009
Work Lines (continuous update)
The following are lines I have scribbled on the back or in the margins of my rotas while working as a Gallery Attendant:
In longing there is escape from my present
a reach for more than.
An acknowledgement of my present limitations,
imprisonment.
Jeff Koons: funny, in your face, shocking - unreal - hyper-real, staged, ridiculous, egocentric, worrying.
Exposes the crassness, nastiness of the successful art world.
Unreality of imagery.
Strands of sexual liberation and money, fame = this.
Posed as porn films, what does she think?
Anti feminist but not because anti rights.
www.myspace.com/grainsuk
I am inside.
The world is outside.
On that threshold.
Ossification
Where are the lines of taboo? Fitting the female form into that shock factor - iconoclast - shock from images already exists.
I wonder if it would be possible to do a phenomenological reading of Peter Fischli and David Weiss' Untitled (Tate) 1992-2000 piece...
Jiří Kovanda 53
What do we hold as our object(s)?
The way we orient ourselves by whatever we place before us.
To the sane mind, the fantastical is an adventure, an important exercise in possibility and elasticity of thought. An exercise in the forgetting of the horrors of madness.
But with the first whiff of madness, fantasy's dark side, the devils and goblins, the devil worship and evil seeps forth again, makes us shiver, is threatening to our grip on reality.
Is reality anything more than the organising structures - grids - we impose onto it?
André Breton: What Is Surrealism? (Trans. D. Gascoyne) 1936
Uncovering the ground of the issue.
Pulling off another layer, flying carpet, rug. From under our feet (foot fall).
Pull away another layer to uncover the ground, uncover another carpet to pull away.
All this uncovering makes me think of falling down a well,
scaffolding gone, the brickwork is slippery to touch.
All this dismantling of conceptual structures,
and the ground is an eternal uncovering in the pursuit of a ground.
All this questioning makes me want to reach out and touch someone.
Gödel, Escher, Bach
Hofstadter - Maths, early 20th Century.
0845 300 7000 - London Bus Complaints
Fresh round drips off of umbrellas
collect in front of the art works,
bleeding into the wood grain and dust.
Weird, confronting the loneliness, grab a relationship and seals herself into it for some years. Jobs and houses follow. Experiment continues but with the expectation that settling down and moving up in the world is to come.
Colouring my mind
Romanticism with its cheap promise of completion
Plays itself out at my mercy
The Emancipatory
Emancipation as revelation
Sacrifice - McCarthy
Carly Simon
What's the rule? Adorno? (Internalising the law/s)
Baldessari
24th @ A's. Bring food etc.
The Overlap Series: Jogger
(with Cosmic Event)
2001-01
Imagine, being given edifices and abysses with out birth and box of characteristics. Across the way from the abyss, on the other side of the cut lies All That We Cannot See - our blindnesses, our abjects, our beasts.
We cannot see them. They look like murky areas of unseeing.
They unleash themselves on all that we encounter, colouring our perceptions, unknown to us.
Our neighbours, the other beings we come into contact with can see, they see our blindnesses, they make form from what we don't delimit. Their eyes and their powers make things out of our unseeing and give them back to us as real life encounters, the incidences, the bus stop chats with strangers, the friend round for tea, the kiss, the supermarket queue.
Other people see our blindnesses.
In longing there is escape from my present
a reach for more than.
An acknowledgement of my present limitations,
imprisonment.
Jeff Koons: funny, in your face, shocking - unreal - hyper-real, staged, ridiculous, egocentric, worrying.
Exposes the crassness, nastiness of the successful art world.
Unreality of imagery.
Strands of sexual liberation and money, fame = this.
Posed as porn films, what does she think?
Anti feminist but not because anti rights.
www.myspace.com/grainsuk
I am inside.
The world is outside.
On that threshold.
Ossification
Where are the lines of taboo? Fitting the female form into that shock factor - iconoclast - shock from images already exists.
I wonder if it would be possible to do a phenomenological reading of Peter Fischli and David Weiss' Untitled (Tate) 1992-2000 piece...
Jiří Kovanda 53
What do we hold as our object(s)?
The way we orient ourselves by whatever we place before us.
To the sane mind, the fantastical is an adventure, an important exercise in possibility and elasticity of thought. An exercise in the forgetting of the horrors of madness.
But with the first whiff of madness, fantasy's dark side, the devils and goblins, the devil worship and evil seeps forth again, makes us shiver, is threatening to our grip on reality.
Is reality anything more than the organising structures - grids - we impose onto it?
André Breton: What Is Surrealism? (Trans. D. Gascoyne) 1936
Uncovering the ground of the issue.
Pulling off another layer, flying carpet, rug. From under our feet (foot fall).
Pull away another layer to uncover the ground, uncover another carpet to pull away.
All this uncovering makes me think of falling down a well,
scaffolding gone, the brickwork is slippery to touch.
All this dismantling of conceptual structures,
and the ground is an eternal uncovering in the pursuit of a ground.
All this questioning makes me want to reach out and touch someone.
Gödel, Escher, Bach
Hofstadter - Maths, early 20th Century.
0845 300 7000 - London Bus Complaints
Fresh round drips off of umbrellas
collect in front of the art works,
bleeding into the wood grain and dust.
Weird, confronting the loneliness, grab a relationship and seals herself into it for some years. Jobs and houses follow. Experiment continues but with the expectation that settling down and moving up in the world is to come.
Colouring my mind
Romanticism with its cheap promise of completion
Plays itself out at my mercy
The Emancipatory
Emancipation as revelation
Sacrifice - McCarthy
Carly Simon
What's the rule? Adorno? (Internalising the law/s)
Baldessari
24th @ A's. Bring food etc.
The Overlap Series: Jogger
(with Cosmic Event)
2001-01
Imagine, being given edifices and abysses with out birth and box of characteristics. Across the way from the abyss, on the other side of the cut lies All That We Cannot See - our blindnesses, our abjects, our beasts.
We cannot see them. They look like murky areas of unseeing.
They unleash themselves on all that we encounter, colouring our perceptions, unknown to us.
Our neighbours, the other beings we come into contact with can see, they see our blindnesses, they make form from what we don't delimit. Their eyes and their powers make things out of our unseeing and give them back to us as real life encounters, the incidences, the bus stop chats with strangers, the friend round for tea, the kiss, the supermarket queue.
Other people see our blindnesses.
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
15th September 2009
Alrighty. Next stage: intermittent (guerrilla?) internet visits (get in get out), dump photos and videos and some thoughts. Disappear completely again.
These shots were from the night of my 30th Birthday.
These shots were from the night of my 30th Birthday.
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