Part I- Final Video
final track for video
’tis the one of me saying my words along with the poem out loud.
Artist Statement- video for final project
There is so much to occupy the mind. If one is bored they can simply sit down at a desk, in a coffee shop, on a bench, or just about anywhere and get connected to the endless possibilities that the internet offers. These include, but certainly are not limited to, the following:
- friends
- porn
- clothes
- music
- movies
- porn
- videos
- food
- exercise
you know… just about anything one could want
What does one do with all of this information? One is led to believe that with easier accessibility comes a life that is more rich and fruitful that would lead to happiness. It does not. These many messages found on the internet or anywhere today adds to our attention deficit society’s search; one that occupies our whole lives and simply does not lead anywhere. What will one do with all of this information? Can one get the most out of every single thing that is shoved in their face? Grabbed, clicked or dragged? Probably not. This cluster of information and in-cognitive existential trip is what I’d like to question. The man that I’m representing in my narrative video is one who is simply wading through his life with all of this–represented by the “artistic byproduct” of past players. On a metaphysical level he is not happy. He’s never delved into the creative process.
The poem is in light of one who sees past this computer age jargon and connects on a deeper level to what is in front of him. Albeit little in quantity, it bares more to him. But, as the person is “working,” the poem is difficult to understand because of the random word thoughts that occupy the same time. These words are personally relevant, for they represent moments and people who helped me transcend my state of mind. However to the viewer, or the character in the video, they do not have the same connotations that I bring to them. Their relevance might just be in passing, much like anything that one encounters in a fast passed internet browse or walk in a city. They clutter ones head and make it difficult to find the meaning. Through my video, I attempt to represent the difficulty of transcending amiss the wealth that is around us.
My performance is meant to be seen after the video. It is on the river that I present myself with the clustered information (via writing all of the words on my body) and try to manifest a message through this poem while moving the objects across the river. As I finish up the poem and attempt to carry some objects over I will trip and fall in the river. Chances are the viewer will not be able to find one meaning out of this video/performance due to the cluttered information being represented as “garbage,” although often it is just that. There is a lot of hefty symbolism, especially if the viewer is searching for a deeper meaning. They could [hopefully] draw a comprehensive conclusion of this work, or just as easily walk away with all of this information at hand and have nothing to make of it. By throwing it all out there I’m imitating the computer age that we live in. I’m not particular to whether or not my audience would like to make since of this or simply view the many facets and walk away. If the first, I’m glad that they’re freely thinking individuals. If the later, it is a testament to negative influence on the overload and accessibility of all things.
If you cannot find meaning in a piece of art that is fully loaded with information, is it ironic? I ask so because the world that we live in shares that same quality.
Update: Final
Today I’m recording my sounds. They will not be uploaded until tomorrow though. This is due to the fact that I do not have the cable that plugs into my laptop, which I will get tomorrow. Yesterday I filmed scenes of me walking through a door with the junk that I collected. Sadly, this too will not be posted until I can render the sound files. Once I’ve made the two main audio tracks I can work on the final video. One of these are the recordings of me whispering my transcendental words in a soft tone; they will be used during my final performance along with the video.
Actual Final Sounds
Some words that I associate with transcendental movements in my life:
train
Caroline
Julian
medium
hemingway
alfred
billy
nirvana
nintendo
dreams
cohen
hudson
medium
illuminated
elegy 54
alex
sex
emerson
catcher
gatsby
bus
katye
nitche
william
breathless
life is fine
dan
lan
deaths & entrances
sebastian
montreal
egon
kyp
fall
matisse
breasts
jurassic park
maria
jimi
beauty
steve
jew
vonnegot
moon
satre
william
langston
big fish
mocking bird
gideon
faulkner
leilani
wes
ingrid
dan
rhode island
jean-michel
beauty
katye
long walks
movement
fall
This is a recording of my saying these words bunches of times.
Game plan: Final Project
It’s been a good long while since of blogged. I felt as though this was a much needed absence. It has given me time to contemplate my next and final step in this class. I recall the one guest speaker that did not use collage techniques for well over twenty years and finally got back to it. These last four or five days are like a twenty year lapse in art school time.
A Poem
This is a poem that I wrote on the bus on the way back to Alfred. I’m thinking whether or not I should recite it during my performance. It has a little to offer in the way of explaining… I think
Here it is:
breath
think of their song
a short jubilation that shall not take long
let us offer praise for those who gaze
past the river and walk to where
their sight can see and then some.
who take the air in and exalt mother nature
with force and reckless abandon as to propel
themselves toward the future and over the foothills,
running water, and psyche that will keep and continue to occupy
the rest of us that only jerk our feet out of muddy water when
our pre-conceived notions have been shattered by one
who simply doubts the consistency of said terrain and
takes his foot out of that shit which has troubled the rest of em’.
who never planned accordingly.
fucked to the sweet, sweet jazz
felt the sensual skin between the thighs
and knew very well that what was going on
should never be and went along with it anyway
–without hesitation, might I add—
then after that sublime moment dared say
that they saw God at that very climax, where everything
seen makes sense and all touch felt right.
where have the meek and mild been?
everywhere including the history books
superman was in the imagination,
as is the gospel of sweet-nothings that cloud
the various minds of
you, you, you, us, them, we, me, myself, and I
that lapse where one forgets the commandments,
rules, clowns, and walls and then with a subtle manner
whispers, claps, cries, gazes into that sweet ephemeral
passive water that has a pulse far more vibrant than us or David.
Blogging for the Final on a Nice Saturday Morning
I’ve taken a little break from blogging this Thursday and Friday in order to focus on my final drawing and restore some faith in this internet cite that’s all about me. During these days I definitely thought about blogging–especially at this point*–but I really did not think it was necessary to blog about my thoughts in utero. My only developments in my ideas for my final project is a change in the format from an installation to a performance. This performance will still be at the same place on the river and involve the media that I collected last week. Hopefully, the performance that I’m going to do, which will be in the form of a sermon, will direct the audience to a specific conclusion or feeling instead of the “nothing” that I had in mind originally.
*yep, ’twas thinkin’ extra hard at this time
Findings
It has been difficult these past couple of days. Blogging is kind of boring now…… Done crafting sentences. Make sense later.
As of right now (12:40 AM), I have four bags of artistic by-product. In order to get this much I’ve had to broaden my search to include basically anything on the floor of Harder Hall; more is better. It is not as much as I’d prefer, but nonetheless it is a comfortable amount. I can definitely work with it.
Here is a picture of some of the random stuff that I picked up and will dump in a river (in an eco-friendly way, of course).
[fuzzy]
[some] Findings:
- ceramic bowl (a nice gentleman gave it to me)
- dirty oil cloths (courtesy of a metal garbage can)
- purple gloves
- used black oil paint
- transparent paper with coffee grounds
- two film canisters
- drawing implements
Special Thanks to Hope for allowing me to use some worn out drawing boards and sheetrock.
Nobody has put anything in my basket at the Moka Joka.
