conNOTEative.

This rusted giant crushed can thingie will not be coming home w/ me.
Here is an example of something i can not make.
i collect things i can not make.
They lie mean-looking, stacked in a wood crate, sometimes disturbed, but mostly waiting to be upcycled.

define work load / budget
define budget / workload
sizes
things you can steal
things you can hand over to someone else
things too large to move

i keep thinking about what am i going to be, what am i gonna do? That is the condition of an artist. i am once again gaining mental ground by stepping away from it all + saying, okay this is it, i am what i am being. Socks up, continue on. Older ideas drop off, some decision are made for you ... others take time.
Instead of having the mind of this is my lot (a lot)... i’m asking, are we all in this too deep to think it was the wrong path? (Perhaps there is a sand bar up ahead.) i am forever trying to redefine my path + concentrate.

When trying narrowing + deepening of a vision i end up w/ a wider swath, bumping into the side walls for lack of focus.

Rest on that.

Very random thoughts...

Grown up children feeling the need to earn what the world means to give them.

i wish i had lived in the ‘20s. 

Oh hell, who am i kidding, i would have been ostracized then, too.

• lurch; A mental hangout. -e.g. The few members of the questioning committee were left in the lurch when the spokesman had to answer an emergency phone call from his neighbor's dog. also- A scary person.

• process; -23 things to remember
1.
2. Have the right tools or the right people. Anything done without the proper whatever-you-need is the bad timing in a black whole.
3. pick two; Fast, Cheap, or Good.
4. Be aware that absolutes are not true things, but tendencies, and roll with them.
5. Don’t suffer future pain.
...

Revisit Remedious Varo

This looks like an interesting, hard edged aesthetics kind of day.

i hit on a memory of a slice of conversation.
“They were having a special on eye wear so I bought three pairs for only $100 dollars.”
“But you don’t wear glasses!”
“I know, but it’s fun to accessorize.”

i base my fashion taste on what doesn't itch.  -Gilda Radner

We all remain at large.

Have I really not been around in so long? i'll be here soon.

"Great, Jayne, just close the lines."

-past, present & future ongoing lesson from LH.

We were fixing an installation at Forte de Basso when he sent me off via taxi. He armed me w/ a to-get list on a slip of paper, instructions on to-and-from, + i was off on an obscure errand to find hardware in a foreign city where i did not understand the roads, language or currency. The taxi driver rolled away into the pouring rain + darkening sky. Cold dread was written on Kyle's face as though he had just made the worst mistake + mega-regret of an entire lifetime ... reading as, What have I done? I’m never going see her again.

"Okay," he said brightly, "We can each have 3 and a half headaches.”
-kb, after counting the aspirin for the unth time.

jahh / Script for a practicing artist + an unfinished life.

Every act of creation is first of all an act of destruction.  -Picasso

What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset. -Crowfoot

A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything. -Nietzsche

It is nice, in getting mature enough to see the things you really don't have to want to do any more, certain options fade drop away + we are left w/ more focus.

A great comeback to any theory;
There are a lot of assumptions in that deduction.

Being out of context, i reckon.
When i want believe in any thing, then i may have to need to believe something-this or something-else. The world as a reaction.
A cabinet will fall if it is top-heavy, whether you believe it will or not.
i no not have to believe in physics, of course.
Physics, it is nothing personal.

i am the reaction, too.

Pay attention, pay attention, pay attention.

Chloe has been patrolling the hallways.
Here’s the tickets she issues if something seems suspiciously off.

Later on a drive she notices,
That character in the car behind us looks guilty.

Well at least he has a nice car.

That's why he looks guilty.

Which reminds me of driving, fast or slow? There is something about driving 65 mph that triggers the road-trip gene conditioning in me as a young girl.

If you live near family then you can travel to exotic places + not feel guilty on vacation. i learned this too late.

The key of A is suppose to be the most relaxing.
An car rumbles in the key of A. Greatful Dead music resonance with a car engine. 

Never road trip w/ the station wagon back rear window open.

i awoke this morning from a dream. We had all been walking in streets, all wearing tee shirts that read,

I FORGOT TO GET THE GODFOOD.

If only it in had some deeper meaing.

auspicious / suspicious

i have been accused of not liking blue.
Totally untrue.

i am the first to say we must be friends with all colors.
Though, now that i think of it there is a certain hue of blue that rakes on me like nails on a blackboard. It is that awning, or soda-can blue. Really, not to be confused w/ the potent cobalt that comes out of a tube, there is something different about that...

But, in design work i created a beautifully complete color story for an underwater installation w/out touching blue.

i just thought this was interesting.

98
I sat on the subway heading to who knows. To my right sat a young business associate in a stiff navy-blue pant suit. She looked practically normal. That is, until she pulled a legal sized zip-lock bag out of her brief case. It was stuffed w/ half used lip sticks. i’m not good at the guess-how-many game, but i’m saying it was far too many for a lifetime use of one person.  Rhythmically + staccato-like, she grabbed out a tube, pulled off the cover, screws it up to see the color, ‘tsks’ disgustedly, recaped it + clutches for the next stick. She does this over + over + over + over again, till she has seen + disregarded each color. She’s having an audible imaginary talking-to w/ a peer.

You can’t make this stuff up.

Well, gee, it’s been a while. Enough about that. 

You know how some things keep coming around again? 

Well, prayer ties, of a sort, have been in my work for a long while.

i use to, + again, print them onto tattered fabric strips + cinch them around iron bars + tree limbs while on walk abouts around NYC. Whenever i visited a museum, a library, a park. Places i felt needed a tie for someone to serendipitously find.

i remember securing them to platform bars near subway artist’s work. Herring's early work was around at the time. The subways would blow by making them float up  sending the prayers into the tunnel system.

Here are a few below, as i’ve just been reworking them into a small folded books of flyers to be cut up. 

Cut & Scatter Prayer Ties; 

If you don’t want it to be true, change it.

It’s not important to have reasons all of the time.  

Be prepared for cliffs + sharp moments. 

Response / responsible / responsibility. 

Be sure of distance, + space will become flat.

Truth can never be repeated, because it can't be stated once + for all. 

There you go. Something to chew on.

The passengers were soaked by the time we had all queued up the stairs into the cabin. Plane guy hollered, “Everyone throw your luggage in a front seat, then move to the back of the plane + take a seat."

That was the same flight that after finding a spot near a window i looked out over the wing + noticed a pink sticky note flapping on the top do not walk area. i didn’t want to know why. The weather was in turmoil. i kept trying to forget that Noah's rainbow only promised no flood, not no destruction. It’s strange how the many-thoughts-at-once thingy becomes noticeable when we are in emanate worry. i was concerned as to why there were two seats on the left row + only single seats on the right, that the pilot looked under age, why was it that it could be so drafty in such a small airplane, + what about that swarm of something in front of the propellers? 

A white sheet lit w/ a flashlight will render a rush of motley stupefied bugs as they fly onto the fabric. Bugs in headlights. Kind of like hunters paralyzing deer w/ the spot light from their truck. What does this have to do with philosophy? I don’t know. One of those days where every word sounds like a quote if it were just written down. What does this have to do with who's talking? i don’t know that either. i once had a teacher, whose standard annoying quip had been, “I don’t know, find out + tell me.”

-Script for a practicing artist + an unfinished life.

Quan Yin told me in a dream, and not very patiently, 

 

Time has past, you should know these things.

7-8
He wasn’t nuts, he really was Nero.
He wove leaves into his thinning hair and oh so carefully sprayed his clothing dirty in the appropriate places. He developed a spewing hack since he sprayed his garment while they were on his person.

jahh / Some of My Best Friends

Make room for more WHITE paper + sharp pencils.

78
One of these December nights, I was awakened by the jazz station I listened to for white noise. The man behind the microphone was crying and stuttering. I couldn't understand what was happening. Was it a sleepy fog of twisted sound or a disaster at the radio station? I peered below, over the edge of my loft bed just as Guffrie jumped up from his cot to his 6’6” height.
“Oh, my god...” He reeled with his hands to his head as the TV crawler announced the assassination of John Lennon.

Walking up to Central Park the following Saturday you would have merged with other overwhelmed city dwellers.Talk became hushed tones. A bitter cold was blowing in. At the band shell Imagine played and a memorial silence was obeyed. Afterward, the paper had Yoko saying she had seen John’s face smiling down from the sky. She can see things like that. On the walk home it began to snow and a lightness filled the air.

jahh / Script for a practicing artist + an unfinished life.

53/54
...and as a custom he always took an uncharted street home.
He was entranced with radio games and truck gimmicks. Colored glasses that turned the landscape into a novelty scene. What is most vague? What is most uninteresting? One late afternoon he rode half way across Kansas with a set and clear conscious. He passed that peculiar water tower with obscure graffiti. As it shrank from life size to a spec in his rear view mirror he felt himself mentally backing up.

Plan ‘C’ found him being assistant to an artist. Tedious. He was entrusted to stretch and make ready canvas. This yoga-monkey-man task left him mental time with cunning thoughts. While sizing fabric he would under paint geometric shapes with gesso. Perhaps a large X, stripes, or a single block letter. After the applied final coat of white paint was dry and ready for the artist’s paint, a hint of his mark remained. This was subtle graffiti at its most tasteful.

jahh /  Parallel Chances Tend to Neglect

I want to be the kind of artist that doesn’t work for anyone.  -Chloe

-He Spoke in Riddles or Not at All; We Tied, Neither Playing Fair.