Friday, October 28, 2011
Darker the Berry
1, while explaining it, in it's defence with my wife (she is my hardest critic), I realized I really need to start talking more about my work because there is a perspective and a witness I can bear to the moment and action and it should be part of the experience I share with you the viewer...so sorry for not sharing so much, I'll try to make it up
2. I really came to an understanding of how I want this project to continue.
So bare with me as I ramble..."this project" that I referred to is my Recycled Advert Art series, which consists of art on signs we were throwing away at my job because the next retail set went up, yes I work sorta retail, I make coffee, I'll let you guess...Reason I started it is to save money on canvas and have thinner easier to store pieces that could still be very large and yet not burdensome b/c they lay flat. It's also that I feel myself eager to use them, I live around them, they have symbols that are ingrained in me because of all the time I've spent around them. They also represent society to me. As the people I encounter by a huge majority present themselves as a result of these images and the culture it represents. I think it's something I want to reclaim and be heard in, not a take over or separation, but a Buddhist like acceptance and flow, like using their aggression into a counter move in water style kung fu. At first I wanted to cover the surface of the ads and rid them from my memory, make "me" all that matters. But, what I feel at this stage in my life, is a deep pull toward at oneness. And although this Americanized commercialized commoditzed genericness I am surrounded by has always been my skeptically paternal ever present bad ruler thru putty brains of warm cozy conformity in the sentiment and motives of even my own and always under the guard of "safety" is an acknowledged problem I have with the world, it is just that, everything that raised me, something I feel sentimentally proud of even such, there's good there too sometimes, it's just misled. So the pieces are to be my coercion, my Utopian edits, places of common ground with the subtle monsters of our commutes. Complete with organic local handmade fingerprints!
Wishing I went back to writing nothing, aren't you?
dark roasted, black, and aromatic
seconds tick, drops drip, bubbling
traffic downsized and quaint for a moment swirling by like a breeze