The Last Horse

Relocated. Revamped. There's space here; a cloud of ions stretching into infinity. Rooms with views. Time and spacial concerns.

Give me fellowship this day; common communicators with things to say. It's lonely here in our head. We need more connection. Fuzzy signals dancing away on some forgotten wavelength. It's too much to bear. Recipient, where are you? Why have I put off searching for you for so long?

Baby steps then. It's agony to start rustling around in these dusty brambles again, but I need you. I need to reach you.

I will reach you.

Title to be Determined

Artist.

There is a place we need to see. Would you take us there for a minute?

What's it like? Well, the floor's all sugar and gravel down here, and cotton in the sky.

Carpet Guts

Laudable. Entertaining. Passionate.

Classy Class Hero.

Vanguard of Nothing and No One.

Creator Trapped in a Created World.

Too Well-Defined.

Mile a Minute.

Stalk, Talk, and Listen.

Failure to Fail.

Old Brew and Kettle Corpse.

Mingle, Tingle, and Single.

Worldquake and the Turbo Turban.

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After some ape-ish prodding in the dusty innards of my computer case, I managed to get it working again. Have no idea what I did, but it started right up. Not too bad for a layman. Lucky break. Ten letters.

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t e n l e t t e r s

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Philosopher's Tower

Some walking around. Some coffee. Some frozen custard. Time to cool down and stop losing my mind. Leisure-time is scary now. Almost forgot what to do with it.

Sepulchre - pronounced sey-pul-KER

Sepulchral - pronounced sey-PUL-keral

Tomb-like. Eerie places.

So back to towers:

The tower is a physical representation of an idea. Said idea is housed within the confines, or kept outside, floating above, or buried underneath. Present. Or lost in the Past, or planned for the Future.

The top can provide an unobstructed view of the surrounding area. 360 degrees of unrestricted visibility, or restricted to something narrower. Perhaps a window looking onto the idea in question?

Intent?

To interpret cultural nodes through the context of a body of work.

Translation?

Something-something.

Losing the Thread

No work today, thank goodness. I can think a little clearer now. Breathe a little deeper.

Now what was it we were talking about?

Building in chaotic realms. Nothing is static. Context in upheaval. I do not want to be in the vanguard of gentrification philosophy. No. I'll be something worse: the anti-hip. The anti-hype.

For Lack of Time

Still taking steps. Out of time before I started today. Got mere minutes before a long night of work-- so here goes:

Crumpled sheets of paper. Metaphor for discarded or rejected ideas. Implied content of the paper is more important than what they actually contain. Though wadded up, they inhabit a special place in the tower. Read into this what you will. That's the point. Create tension; invite discussion.

And then something to do with deliberate steps to break the perpendicular formula. Thinking outside the box. Literally.

It's possible that I don't need to break this habit. Though I'm curious to see what a pentagon shape would do to your brain. That, and irregular planes designating each tier of the piece. Neat.

Now off to work. Stew on this. Come home and build something. Please give me the energy to do more than lay around after work. Step, step, step...

Deliberate Towers

Need to articulate some art-speak. E's helping me brainstorm a bit. Here's what's rolling around:

I've built a tower. It's a deliberate tower, as opposed to the incidental vertical accumulations of the past.

It's understated. Quiet. Meditative. Each floor features a wadded-up ball of paper. They are nestled like precious eggs on each tier. I've used hints of tied string to accent certain areas. As far as accents go, these too are understated.

Presentation: Does it sit on the floor? Higher, on a pedestal? Either could work, though part of that deliberate planning was that this tower is meant to stand on its own foundation, wiggle its toes and remain pleasingly involved with its environment.

Lighting-- an extension of the same theme. This guy is self-sufficient, built with a willingness to travel. It's at home in a variety of setups. Give me clamp-lights and concrete walls, or track-lighting and all those spotless white perks you find in a good gallery.

Pics? What pics? Holding off on that. For now I just want to write about it.

Walk Before You Run

I need a place to write, but I don't do well with keeping a journal. Stuff like that always get misplaced. I can never keep track of it. So back to blogging.

I'm straining very hard to put one foot in front of the other today. Walk. Just walk in a direction. Push yourself. Get going. Go.

Go with intent. Deliberate steps. Writing again is just one of these steps. It's accountability. It's communication. And it's archival. I appreciate the handiness of this blog-tool for all it's accessibility and ease.

And now to add content. Something personal about my day. A quick aside:

Coffee tastes faintly like ashes in my mouth today. Reminds me of cigarettes. Of art school. Of hanging half-out the window to smoke, one leg hanging over the ledge. Confident in that moment that nothing could ever unbalance me. Send me falling to my death.

Naive. Cool.

Today's agenda: what can a person accomplish in an hour and a half?