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Here I am telling poems at the Icelandic Embassy.
You can’t tell from the sound, but there’s a section where I wrote the words on paper as I recited them, dragging the line of text between opposite walls, carrying it through the air on a page of my notebook. I held the open notebook horizontally like a tray, and wrote against it as though the words were balancing on top and might drop off the edge of the page if I let it tilt too far. Read the rest of this entry »
- Shut eyes and fling eggs around room. Look for them.
- Look for leftover eggs not found last year.
- Disguise eggs among similar things. Look for them.
- Look for eggs that are there anyway (ornaments, boiled, etc.)
- Hide eggs all year round. Forget about them. Look for them.
- Go to sleep with eggs in bed. In the morning look for them.
On Saturday I presented a new work at the Stanley Picker gallery during the Writing Exhibitions symposium. Here’s an outline of my work, which I called Genuine Smiles:
A sheet of paper is attached to one wall of the gallery, and attached just below it is a long piece of string with a sharpened pencil fixed to the other end. Visitors are invited to hold a pencil and do whatever they need to do to muster a genuine smile. Read the rest of this entry »
This evening I’m going to describe to some friends the following work, which is the same work that appears in the diagram I drew last week. We won’t be able to put the work into practice because we’ll be at someone’s home and we won’t be able to draw lines all over its walls, and so once I’ve described the work as it should be, we’re going to try to find ways of replicating its effect but within the constraints of the domestic space: no lines on the walls, no lines on the floors.
Genuine Smiles uses a faint pencil line in place of writing – an attenuated, quietened form of language drawn between signified and signifier: between the thing described and the description of it. But once the line is drawn, the thing it started from isn’t there any more.
A sheet of paper of any size is attached to one internal wall of the cube, and attached just above it is a long piece of string Read the rest of this entry »
This is our new home. In a complete change of everything, this home consists of a white studio. It means rather than making artwork in a domestic space as I have been for the past few years, I’ll be doing domestic things in an art-making space.
One day I will find you standing by the door of the bathroom. You will have cupped your hands together as though you were trying to catch drips from the ceiling, but nothing will be falling. And then I’ll notice that swaying in the air inside the cup of your hands you’ll be watching the plastic pull of the light cord. And as it moves back and forth through the air you’ll be moving your hands in time, so that they always contain it.
One day you’ll have gone out to work and I will still be at home. I will find all the glasses in the house, and I will get the empty jars and bottles we’ll be collecting under the sink, and I will balance them all into a wall against the kitchen window. Read the rest of this entry »
I made this in 2005 and I found it again the other day. Though I’m not meant to be working this month I’m surreptitiously preparing it for a Resonance fm broadcast, to be aired on September 21 as part of Digestives.
I recorded this short commentary as an addendum to What The Matter Is, a 60 minute audio play I created for Resonance 104.4fm.