Intuitively developed art that follows its own internal logic free of other rules.

Thursday, March 9, 2017

2017 Murals


I saw the Philistine Captives At Medinet and Bruegel, Goya behind ongoing compositions. It is a kind of exhaustion but work anyway when last nite I lay out a field of red and brown with porcelain lights and cut strips of thick porcelain, throwing them down so they came out a kind of fleur de lis that I slashed with a yardstick and assaulted with a rolling pin, which made it worse till
I cut sections of it away with a knife and got this below. Most often I work on these a couple days. This one I have to leave as is after the fight. It is not my brain but my eyes that tell me what is right, so this one which could be viewed in any direction demands to be upside down.  





Captives
The Philistine Captives At Medinet and Bruegel, Goya behind these ongoing compositions, 4D wrestling against seemingly impaired or part deformed people, men, disposing of them, moving quickly, which attracted two of the superior ones who watched from above; I was down in a kind of gully. They sent one of theirs to oppose and while dispatching him he showed absolutely no emotion, like a robot or clone. I dumped him further down the gully, wondering whether there were more when I woke. It is always the eyes that speak, not the brain. They say instantly what to do and present titles.

Broken texts relied upon as a method almost. Clay falls off the table, pushed too far. Any number of disasters befall so it can become an active means of composition, which at least brings unexpected spontaneity to the work. Is intuition in the nature of clay like the hyper grammatical, each jot and tittle mathematical? No, to me language is sound and sounds skewed, consonant assonant meanings misspelled with punlike context, corporate collective meanings with image yes, but of the sound itself, therefore flowing and changing as the clay that falls forms the pot. There are other of these tapestries to be fired, cut and formed as such.

Immigrants

I accept them after i have forgiven them for what they are because there were previous stages in the making, as the past in an individual life, the amorphous forethought, the making of the clay, its lamination, the molding into form on the wheel, the separate parts waiting assembly, the stretching of the clay, the assembly and its bracing, the bending, molding, breaking, the covering and hoping it won't fall, the finishing of the head, adjustments, the signing, the flattening the base so it will stand: all this precedes the bisquing and glazing when whites blend and intensities fade. Then the final firing and it cannot look like what it did before. Then I may accept them after I have forgiven them for what they are.

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