Monday, 13 July 2009

Who will ever do anything better than that propeller?


upon his return to paris , he was, in essence, no longer a practicing artist. instead, he played chess which he studied for the rest of his life to the exclusion of most other activities.


he then cut three wood slats into shapes of a hull - and put all the dance steps into a croquet box - the moon was obedient to a hundred million a hit - part of a book on classical mechanics- who will ever do anything better than that propeller? these forays of demoralization, which were also forays of witticism and clownery ... he varnished them into place on the blue-black canvas strips and attached them to glass - earth grew a coffee coloured cliff face behind it - when the vegetable man came and towed it down the coast of other dreams

Sunday, 5 July 2009

les grecs


beyond the accident of the double exposure, which has its own majik and chance, i've been thinking of a series of local [greek] faces faded into walls. a kind of reflection of globalization the way it affects cultures and identities. what we lose what we gain. metering for a white wall is pretty tricky... there's more thoughts about this idea, they just need to evolve into words.