Sunday, November 16, 2014

Silence or nothing more than a vibrating string robbed of self

Ha. I normally work in silence. In rare moments I will turn on a tune and let it run through me. In these irregular passages, if it strikes my system just so, either brushing away, smoothing over, mental clutter so that my thoughts flow more fluidly coherent or I slip away into the sounds imagings of elsewhere, there is a pleasure of sorts. But most the time, mechanical or voiced music, buzzes like an incessant gnat disrupting my mental musings. I laughed today as I tripped over Vladimir Jankelevitch's textually voiced thought:

"Music acts in human beings, on their nervous systems and their vital processes...The man inhabited and possessed by this intruder, the man robbed of self, is no longer himself; he has become nothing more than a vibrating string, a sounding pipe."

Is not cinema (TV) not almost the same?

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Visceral making was my first move out of silence.

A time when I was unsure how to speak into or even grasp my own lived experience, when my body had a more cogent language than my mind.

That has now been partially purged in the pursuit of a clarity in purpose and voice. So I continue the move out of silence, but it will never stray too far from the language of the visceral.



Where that will lead and how it will resolve is an adventure to strike out upon. 



Clearly (ha), there will be no retrospective based on the 14.7 tons of work and residue taken to the dump and a large part of the remainder burned.



Tear wipe. Palm smack to forehead. Dang. Seriously, seven loads, 14.7 tons. Since I harvest from the waste stream, I do not feel overly guilt returning it. But dang if it didn't hurt to dispose of it all.



Ha. Even purged seven years worth of my steel tip work books.

A tad of the purged




















































Waaaa! It is what it is and it needed done. Shipping or hauling and storing is simply not in my budget. And though I've set myself upon a scholarly path, I am sure that my body will always speak more cogently than my mind.

And to quote my dad, "Make new work."