A Giant Pasty

SSSHHHHHpppppppwwwwwwwaaaaaiohrop34ignw;gjk8`***^&^6%^&%$%*EGed-0abortabortabortabortq3r9quglkgd;lmaydaymaddaynsoije mroi wewe ieio ro giewr  - is the sound of my head exploding!!!!

Meg!  What do you mean? we are each made up of a giant pastiche of archetypes and repetitions of things that have gone before.  To deny that is surely to deny yourself?  (Or do I misunderstand...?)  

Even in making work, nothing, NOTHING is original but something begged borrowed stolen yoked together with something else. THis makes me wonder if the process rather than the product is something that perhaps can be original.

But why do we have to strive so hard to be original and new and surprising anyway... what if we went back to one piece of work that we agreed upon - I dunno say our favourite thing that we've submitted so far an tried to recreate without too much reference to it.

what would happen then?

XX

So to sum up:

• I’m a bit confused and lacking in understanding in where we are going. 
• “Product”, we seem to have established, seems to be a negative thing and is becoming a dirty word!  Why is this?  Are we afraid of it?  I get this sense of reaction / friction from you Meg but does Liz feel this way too? 
• In the spirit of process I am unsure about whether the process of posting everyday is working, (well it wasn't for me last week anyway) and I suppose this is why I might have stopped writing.  Logisically, I need more time than 24 hours to think and respond rather than just respond to some fairly heavy duty responses!  But I am interested in thinking why it isn’t…

Somehow our responses and shared collectiveness is getting harder and harder to sustain. 

Why is that?  Was it just goodwill at the beginning that fuelled our first flurry of responses or was it the new environment which is getting less new for you guys?  Is our methodology flawed?  Are the mediums that we find so expressive  (dance, visual art, words) not enough for the others perhaps, or not pushing us enough in terms of process? 

What is the expectation of the shared collective “work” anyway?  

Was it to create something strangely nebulous – but rich?

Finally I have been reading Jung who talks about a deep collective consciousness that exists within all humanity that connects us in a deep elemental level through our use of symbology in dreams for example (what we identify as benign, attractive, dangerous.) 

I don’t know what these means for our project but there is undeniably some kind of parallels, like we are all talking in a different language and trying to understand each other.  I'd like to keep this chatter going for as long as possible.

What I am not so into:

Is the idea of a product.  I’m not sure of where this project is going, but the leaps forward into the product of a workshop or gallery installation feel some how premature.  I thought the point of this month was to somehow articulate, share and reflect our “dreaming” stage, and then go into editing shape and structure.  Having said that I have no idea when the chalk farm workshop will be and what the pressures are in sorting ourselves out maybe we should be thinking about that now.

I have to say I am less enthusiastic about the dependence of “audience participation” process expecting or demanding them to do things.  I’m just not that clear on what we’re asking them to do or why?   I interested in creating a world for them to engage in.  But that might be too “productive.” 

I know your reservations about product and making artistic products, but I also think it’s a bit of a fallacy to ignore people’s archetypal expectations.  I want to know what the effect of all this is meant to be.  What are we trying to achieve?  I’m not sure if I’m satisfied with seeing what the audience come up with.  

What I like:

Responding to stimuli however strange that connect me in someway to where you are.  We started off thinking about journey and what that means.  This is still interesting to me (being stuck at home!)  

Personally I would really like it if you took the camera out and just showed me more of where you are in someway or you and how you are operating in your current context, or certain objects that are representative or not (haha!) of the place you are in.

In response to your recent post, I really like the idea of something that we can export, whatever it maybe to Bosnia, Japan, the US anywhere that we might go…

But I think this should be kept as simple as possible.  Meg, if you are interested in your idea for a workshop I think this needs simplification and more discussion on content: what are we trying to achieve here, and does the film that we / you create reflect any of our agendas, motivations?

Ultimately we'd get another big collage is that a product too and does it matter if it is?

To me it looks technically difficult.  However it did put me in mind of a guy that works on the ACA executive team who is a technical genius and interactive designer / play specialist he did a sort of similar thing to the thing you sent us.  Check him out

http://www.chrisoshea.org/hand-from-above

x

I am trying my best not to make this an essay!

And in a way this probably includes about a week’s post in one.  So I have broken it up into a few.

Posting every day is really difficult.  We’re like ships in the night, which is to be expected but makes the possibility of connection all the more remote.  In deciding not to shape and make clearer what our aims and objectives for the work we’re doing, I am still in the dark feeling my way.  

On the whole I feel my role has been reactive and therefore more passive as opposed to assertive, but then this is probably because I am at home doing this between work.  

Initially when we talked about this idea first of all this was going to be a series of films about your feet making a journey on the way to work!!  I know this was the first idea and it’s good that we progressed from it, but I am finding it difficult to see how we have the common theme in our “collage” that is going to make it work?

Results of the Autopoesis workshop.

Martin – found that he can now communicate with birds.

Jennifer – found that she now no longer grinds her teeth in her sleep.

Milly – can now practice Lunatic Aquaception: the practice of birth control by the balance of water in the body and position of the moon.

Roger – no longer hates his brother-in-law.

Tim – has found new sight in a slit in his right field of vision.

Tina – can control her own body temperature

Rob – has learnt the art of punctuality.

Anna-Kaye – has learnt to orgasm.

Peter – knows what spices complement each other the best

Carol – can hear The Music of the Spheres

Jerry – has learnt how to use an i-phone

Felicity – can self clean her body like a cat

Dennis – is no longer scared of his grandma

Eleanor – can inhale spirits

Toby – can anaesthetize different parts of his body

Mo – knows to the tiniest degree what is truly fair

Quentin – can now hold his breath underwater for longer than 3 minutes.

Charlie – has discovered that she is related to Genghis Khan and has equestrian skills

Wesley – can control traffic lights.

Breakfast Time

Peanut butter sticks to the roof of my mouth,

we talk about social planning in communities.

You find a safety in your work,

and speak elegantly and articulately

about how vested interests can co-opt the democratic process.

Shifting about uneasily – not least because I don’t really understand

the topic or care much I apply bigger and bigger amounts of

creamy peanut butter to toast in an attempt to distract

you  (I know how you feel about proportion.)

I respond claggy with texture.

I’m wondering if you want to talk about it,

The elephant in the room,

Which arrived two – maybe ten days ago

and sat itself down by the bathroom door.

At first it seemed a bit apologetic trying to keep its

painted feet neatly together under the bulge of it’s belly.

And, in a bashful way, feeling slightly overdressed

for a weekday morning took care with his trunk to tuck in the

colourful fringing of his festive jacket so that it didn’t

splay out onto the floor. 

Yet as the days slip past I think he’s become

resigned to being here.  And a little offended that no one has

even mentioned the fact, or offered him so much as a

carrot or glass of water in welcome.  He is now reclining a lot more

casually on one of the sofas in the living room,

his chipped painted feet hanging off the arm.

The brightly coloured fringing is balding it keeps

getting snagged on things and there are

tell-tale bits of it in the shower, kitchen and even,

a couple of times, the bedrooms –

So perhaps I should just say something because he’s helping

himself to all the biscuits and, I don’t know if you noticed,

he spilled tea all over your clean white sheets.