Where is he? Who could it be now? Before there was an afterimage, there was someone before you even saw a mirror. Before you had a language, an official name, an ID. Just wondering. It's not always literal, even if we demand as a society the literal, the record, the ID, the photo...I walk into a room, and you turn red. I got it, B.R.O.T.H.E.R. That's what I mean. I wasn't lost among the visuals. The entire matter was frictional for you, and I was hurt because it hurt you. Fuck! What else is there to say? Why say anything at all. You know what I think of you. You understand, but among the lights, camera, action, among the successful life's rising, even if the heart is entirely fucked up, do we encounter at some point. I can't say. If we don't, keep it upbeat. That's all i can really say at this point. I wish it were an easy life. I wish matters were an easy encounter. It's not the case at all. If it is, it's fake bullshit. Guaranteed. You are reserved and difficult, and so am I, but you put it out there, and you even didn't hesitate to send out an olive branch among my honey badger plays, which simply aim at following an interest. Do you like me on the basis of the mirror primarily, or do you aim to connect in terms of process...no one, in terms of process, continue to reach out, after I put matters to the fire for even taking an interest. That's not in the mirror. That's not anywhere the wind blows, fair weathered horseshit friend. So I wonder? You know it. I know it. I have my weakness, my fallacies...etc..like all, but won among the underlying surface connecting with me, loyalty doesn't even begin to describe. It's odd though. In this world, all of us, even if paired, could simply be talking to ourselves. I hope not. Though we all have our doubts, even if we hold interests. I will always understand. I can be a batshit, fuckery parade, but it wouldn't be without a critical focus. I am designed for one person, so anyone taking an interest I am aimed at giving them hell. Most will tap out quick. We were never meant to be. A rare bird, will put up with my hell and then some. that's when I know. Sur among the afterimage, still, there is this moment to connect in a way that isn't hopless, and that's what I hope. Figure it out? If I'm worth it? Most wouldn't even try, but a few good one's will...or at least one. I just wonder.
Life is this way though, you turn a corner. You encounter an interesting personality. Who knows what it is, and matters are non-literal, so it's not like I'm expecting, and no one ever is entitled. You just roll with the punches and expect nothing. I can take any and all hits. It's not like I'm at a loss among any of this. It's in the mirror regardless, so hold your tits and be grateful for what you have at the given moment, which isn't about nice shit for good behavior, though most will play the act-version as a calling card. I need no calling cards. Love is not in the mirror...and when someone is around who gets that with you, even better, but that's a rare shot in the dark, spinning, around a volatile ball of fire. It's a wonderful life, like emerging from a snatch, irritable as hell, then pretending all is well, all is graceful...Fantastic. I'm not fixated, I just consider...and whatever will be, will be.
In the meantime, this folk project, I am continually adjusting the approach. I could do a full on, rustic, but I do think I need some line work for a bit of a pop culture appeal, that works for digital stuff, but ultimately, works for something like folk art coca-cola signs, or GULF signs etc...I love the impressionism style that moves away from line work, but I realize in terms of folk, the styles that I've seen growing up, to have a play on those styles, I am likely to need to embrace line work...Not an easy embrace for me. Again, just not a fan of line work. It's adding something literal to a process that I tend to prefer a play of the non-literal, to allow the form to emerge slowly but surely and defy the eye. I think you can still play tricks on the eye, in terms of delineation. I think that's important, because it gives a added something that elevates and distinguishes something hand-crafted, from commercial. I like both, but each approach has it's advantages, and I do think, you want to play up to those advantages with a given approach. Commercial stuff is everywhere. Tapestry Caravan is a commercial approach as well, and again, it's good stuff. Folk art, and artists understanding the distinct advantages in relation to what is abundant around us, think RedBubble digital artists, is becoming a dwindling affair. Again, I grew up with a lot of folk art...it was everywhere and now it's hard to find. Howard Finster was one of many and now, few and far between it seems, and Finster has a specialty gallery in Chicago on the brown line. It's crazy to me. There has always being this quirky, colorful, culture in Georgia, and it's starting to dissappear. A key aspect that always made Georgia, a prison colony, interesting and desirable, a place to move to, an aspect appreciated, seems, to be going away, and sure, I can't save the day, but I'm apart of it, for sure. I'm not sure if my work on the matter will be successful, but again, I know what I grew up with, the relationship it had, in relation to formal approaches to art and pop-culture, so I would like to give it a go. I think folk art, in relation to fabric arts, both, highlight what I grew up with, which is somewhat paradoxical. To grown up in that small town setting, that transforms into metropolitan Atlanta, including travels in and outside of the country, and even living next to a castle and a tartan factory. It's all odd, but very much apart of my life and process.
Still, I think it's the same for all of us...owners of lonely hearts, even when we have folks around us that we care about. Unless one dives into these processes of creativity and spaces of indeterminate silence, we can love everyone in the way that we can, but it's never actually love until one and their community connects to such a space. Otherwise it's a glinting ignorance. A heart painted onto a mirror and nothing more, looking warm and fuzzy, but in terms of process, in terms of connection hollowing and cold. So, sure, I do odd things, and say things that can be off-beat and off-putting at times, but I am the artist of a process. It's not as if I cling, or aim to paint hearts on every mirror I see. Quite the opposite. I just consider the connections I have with people around me, and remain curious as to where matters are to go. I can't say, nor can I expect, and again, I'm not entitled. There are these possibilities, and I remain curious all the time. I wouldn't mean anything bad by such matters, nor would I remain at a loss among the constant shifts and changes of this life. Afterall, among creativity, among spaces of indeterminate silence, among this love, there is this process in relation to what I grew up with folk art and fabric design, and it seems, such matters are developing into fruition.
I consider the art and artists I grew up with, and even the artist I post in relation to this. The culture of the 80s and early 90s was much different and I take note of that difference. Sure memory is a construct but I have a clarity of the time of something involved absent of the internet and even a primary relation with computers controlling the medium of interaction, which is more than a convenience. I just consider those moments of silence in relation to cultural presentation that always referenced something that wasn't about selling a product, but rather in relation to matters that were layered among written record. It was pop, it was fun, but the relationship wasn't at a loss in relation to violence and hardship. Now it's a lot of hollowing sugar nice nothing that reads like we are skipping down our very own yellow brick road, straight into a veneering hell, that can doll up any killing field to look like Disneyland. It's lackluster even if it does aim at all costs to remain illustrious. Then again, at the core, I do think of Nina and Naturträne. It's never been perfect, even in the 80s. I even consider the whole Princess Diana, and that..."tribute"...seems to me, you lived your life, like a candle in the wind (labyrinth anyone, when the moon hits your eye, Italian Jobs, Hollywood Squares, Love is the Drug, THE DRUG, Come to Daddy, Open Arms, Summer of Love, and these matters of "Seeing the Light"), and then I consider the symbolism....not exactly a tribute, but when among a network that is good at the polish play coupled with the fire and fury cage of death...on the way to "Sir"...and I could be wrong?...Then again, I did attend University of Edinburgh, like it or not...but of course among portrayal, maybe that could be one striving for a place among the mirror, and yet....never actually played out that way...but among smiles I'm sure there is "always" a good answer which reads like earth angel faces going one way, to the other in any fashion, oh my...which this all may or may not be the case? I'm simply considering. Still, the artists were among a free society and were expected to embrace these themes of controversy and themes of written record in insightful ways, which involves much more than a music by the numbers play, coupled with oops I did it again, and I'm good with an oops I did it again moment, but not if that is how an entire industry is running exclusively, in a way that reads like lazy sugar tits just for you incorporated. Blast your brains out with the mirror today. It sets an entire population up for matters of unfortunate event. There is a cost for encouraging minds to reside in the mirror and at the surface. It's inevitable. All can look well and be the best of intentions, but it does indeed pave a very different path, and anyone intune to such affairs would know that without much discussion. So I do question cultural presentations like Karma, Pink Pony Club, Boss Bitch, etc...it's just so....flat, like that of blue paint, differing greatly from the harmonies contextualizing space that color a blue sky. We can all look good in the mirror, but that wouldn't preclude matters of mindles, cultural, dribble piss. Artistry of the 80s and early 90s, of what was on the radio, had themes that were there to orient minds away from the mirror as the mirror was utilized. Now, it's live your best life as a glinting, dimensionless, measure of complete ignorance that looks intelligent. It's this push for all to be fucked yet again...and for certain minds, that play can be awfully lucrative, despite what most will experience along this path, violence.
So is this the part where we click our heels? It's not as if there is a winner among these matters obviously. This ties back into matters of connecting with people. It wouldn't be at the surface, but by all means, gun for the lover play that reads like a Hollywood movie, offer the opportunities, be dolls. It's always a disconnect, no need to wonder about these matters. I'm clear and direct when matters of mirror-to-mirror play cease, but that's an impossibility these days. So it's curve balls, other voices, other rooms, and that little streetcar working it along the neutral ground. How lovely. To be in love. Among the old quarter streets, gas lamps, so romantic, one plus one, jumping for joy, considering this fine tradition. Who knows? Maybe I can meet that special someone in that way, as a network of course defines what it all means. So nice. Ice dolled up in the mirror, so kind, fun-loving, professional, smiles galore...just the regular rendition of earth angel, granted I'm not one to be duped. The table was set, and I walked on by (Think toys in the attic, that ending of Other Voices Other Rooms...). I wonder why that is? Smile. Of course, it's not like being a saint really works out either. I mean, one can assess their position among this fine play of life, and note the win-wins stacking in relation to the lose-lose (empire of dirt context, in terms of what actually maters, rigors of process, all can win but few will even try it seems). Can't really say life is better on either side, still, I'm not into pretending. So many opportunities. Lover tits, a career, and that version of social acceptance, oh my! Get it while it's hawt. Old Chap Cloudburst Club Inc. (Guattari Decoded Flows Code the Machine, Oedipal Light Changes)...Rhea-Demeter...Aphrodite Urania...Post Fertile Crescent (Anzû with Jazz Hands, IT)... stuff like that. As for me... Thinking of ancient triads and the Blue Lion...and of course the table set, Oooh lala, that wine...considering Châteauneuf-du-Pape...those particular type of crowns and our love (Not of antagonism, but rather, understanding). I mean should I pursuit something? Maybe I could be something so much more? To bask in a particular light? Mirror Light?
The folk art is coming along nicely, I think. Not so much in the way NICE falls out of the sky...she's riding in a bubble...is it a champagne bubble...maybe chalky soils? Fossils? Meaning, is her bubble an ancient bubble? Overdrive infinity play...I'm not so sure... Where am I? These damn ruby slippers.
And among the important considerations, not involving the mirror, in terms of the future of industry, in terms of a focus among a particular network, Real-Time Tacit knowledge was a matter of interest, of developing some kind of model that could indicate how we develop communication platforms with dynamic symbologies that can communicate movements of aggregates in real-time, faster than a lightning strike. It's not to say this means anything really, though regardless of informatic method, among real-time streams of information, the form I demonstrate, can offer a dynamic motioning with such a form, like something flowering, in-motion, and easily maneuvered for a given need, much better than any executive summary.
