energy flash : ludic play boots

we have a small gap in our curtains, i stare out beyond the chimney pots to big fluffy clouds illuminated by bright sunshine.  children and parents wander by as they return home from the school run.  i pause to consider where to take this next.

i’ve pasted at the very bottom some attempts at the poetic writing i find myself practicing every so often.

while watching the cricket world cup final on sunday i had a moment of clarity about the art and sport thing i tried to start to work with a few years ago.  back then i didn’t fully understand what i wanted to do.  on sunday i felt how art and sport for me have feeling at the core.  in considering art and sport i missed at the time how competition produces emotion.  emotion for me is dominant and i think this is so because of my dsylexia.  there’s something about my difficulty to process words and their group meaning that places me in a vulnerable position.

a lack of being able to stick with one thing long enough to fully resolve it also comes with the landscape i internally occupy.

 

the poems are placed here as work in progress as they don’t feel fully resolved.

the reading i’m doing to accompany the non linear commission places what i’m doing in the design sphere.  i’m still sitting with how i might feel about this.  what the reading has started to reveal is that feeling uncomfortable  goes with the territory.

 

 

i get it

I get that time is running out
We need to act now

I get it that history shows us small actions
Have been taking place for over 40 years

I get that if we’re not seen to be doing something
Nothing is happening

I see how globally there is concern
Yet we’ve been transitioning for at least 10 years

How far does getting it
get us

To a bridge in France with streaming eyes
And students down under walking en mass

We all have a choice if we choose to do so
We might leave this here and say no more

We might propose strict rules in the name of progress
We might ignore it all and carry on

Walking the dog continues
The distant traffic heading to their destinations

Fires burn in the gardens and
Washing flutters in the breeze

Who might tell us how to live
Who might tell us what’s good for us

Who exclaims when a familiar flag
Appears in the crowd at the pyramid stage

Who is there to help us overcome our fears
And find new motivation

Who role models
what it is best for us all

I get it that there are more questions than answers
I get it

 

some

Some sheep are gay
Some like fast cars

Some sheep are afraid
Some like sport

Some sheep are lonely
Some like poetry

Some sheep are weavers
Some wear nail polish

Some sheep are isolated
Some work 9 to 5

Some sheep are gay
And some follow the crowd

 

 

the sun has shifted to now stream through the window i was looking through earlier.  as i complete this post i feel a calm inside like all of the waves are synchronous for enough time to feel that i don’t need to do anything, worry or consider anything.  this calm feels like a luxury item to savour.  the more i sit with it the more i feel calm.  there’s nothing to process, noting to work at, nothing to think about. i return to looking out the window…

random title and it feels a little random to be writing.  have been spending a lot of time in my head musing life the universe and everything and as already seen in many previous posts when i get this introverted i usually have to find a way out of it through doing something – my thinking is generally about stuff i’m about to do.

 

the commission is progressing.  i’m experiencing a pattern of having to resolve something to feeling great to feeling slightly overwhelmed to realising there’s something to resolve.  recently i’ve upgraded the manor in which i record accompanying audio for the video.  i’ve also started to experience workmen on site being more comfortable in coming forward to chat and vice versa for that matter.  maybe recording the voices of those making the museum of making is starting to come to me.

 

 

exploring the theoretical aspect of the non linear format is starting to come to me to – i’ve found an australian book of essays in which the whole multilinear aspect of storey telling is explored.   i might at times feel very isolated in the uk but at least i know in australia there’s a body of people who are actively interested, researching and promoting potential in other forms of storey telling.  this is a new opportunity to explore what my relationship with the written word is like – if i’m honest i’ve put off exploring ma level study because of my perception of so much of it being about reading books.

 

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Lancaster bomber over cromford. #celebratingcromford

A post shared by andrew martyn sugars (@andrewmartynsugars) on Jun 15, 2019 at 11:17am PDT

 

 

 

i mentioned earlier how i’ve been a bit too in my own head of late.  i’m out of it for the most part however the residual feeling i have is connected to me and my practice relative to what my concerns are within the practice.  again this is nothing new however what is new is how external influences are affecting the view i have of my practice.  this is also affected by my own disability to see and understand the more deeper intellectual contexts within what i do.  here in this moment i appear to be writing about some sort of block.

 

 

in this situation the words from a lecturer return to me ” …keep making. ”

 

 

is there a fine line between craft and fine art ?  is craft making for the pleasure of it, to experience the process and the outcome there of ?  is fine art making with a huge dense rigorous intellectual reasoning and argument as to why the thing exists and all other feelings and experiences in making merely serve the intellectual purpose of stating something in visual form ?

being honest with you i do often feel i fall short in the intellectual rigour and as such am not taken as seriously as i’d really like to be – feel i want to be.  it’s something i’ve lived with for years so i don’t expect it to be any different overnight.  the difference ultimately needs to come from me.  the outlook is such a blurry ness ness that picking my way through seems continuously implausible.

i have admitted this to myself many times before and its helped to keep making.  i just don’t know if i’m holding myself back from the ultimate failure.  again i’ll feel the fear … and do it anyway.

 

 

lately there has been something that i have experienced that has left me unhappy, demotivated and disappointed.

finding a way through this unhappy phase came in an unexpected way this morning – poetry.

composing it out loud in the kitchen and then tweeting it had a huge positive impact upon the way i felt about the situation and life itself.

the shift was huge.

the improvement immediate.

the effect lasted all day.

 

 

 

 

 

once a month i circle up with other men.  the circle is a supportive place to speak, share and listen.  what happens in the circle is kept in the circle, however i can speak of my experience.

i experienced language that i hope can help me going forward.  i experienced listening to the notion of intellect and embodied and there being distinct differences.

most concerning was my experience of the recently happening climate change activities.  by this i’m referring to experiencing how recent events are having an influence.

i’m starting to hear again things i heard ten years ago while as an undergraduate i considered the notion of peak oil and a response to this.  what i made was shown at quad in derby.

ten years on there is a new audience for the age of stupid.

in those 10 years a lot has been done and achieved, what might be possible to achieve in the the next 10 ?

what new work might i go onto make ?

 

 

the kettle is on in the kitchen while i day dream out the living room window.  the lads from next door are leaning against their fence, billows of smoke surround them from their vaping.  i leave the writing for a moment to create a pot of tea.

returning with a cup of tea and feeling satisfied by a sandwich i start to convene the many thoughts of the last few days into something i hope that will  have a semblance of sense.

 

 

the concept of respect has been within my thinking a lot lately.  from how the japanese celebrate the cherry blossom through to the many thousands of finishers of the recent london marathon.

this year the marathon took on a new emotional dimension for me, my partner was a runner of the marathon.

a wave of emotional energy breaks upon me and i pause for some of the tea.

too hot to drink i return to the flow of capturing where i am at the end of april.  i’ve been thinking a lot lately about how i feel and how i think.  how i influence how i feel via how i think about myself and the world around me.

there’s an awareness of how i use regularly reoccurring actions to ground me, for example the weekly tracking of our household energy usage.  through the data collection i’m able to share with the family how our energy consumption compares to this time last year.  we can also see how the outside temperature affects the use of gas.  things we might take for granted.

 

 

 

the mainstream is once again full of the climate change conundrum.  it’s no longer a shock for me because i can remember previous rounds of the conundrum being given high visibility within the mainstream.  the conundrum is fuelled by choice presented through economics.  this morning while out with the dog i mused about how might choice be slowly evolved so that there is no choice for the mainstream in how the conundrum is answered ?  does one need to make a choice while it is still there to be made?  how might the reaction go when choice is no longer an option and there is a force to do something ?  maybe the conundrum is to remain simply that.

 

i revisit my tea.

 

 

this morning i’ve been revisiting the weekend and specifically sunday.  my partner was running the london marathon.

neither of us are particularly good in large crowds in urban settings.   having said that with the purpose of the marathon in mind the journeys out to blackheath on the sunday and the running show at excel on the saturday were ok.  we were both part of something that many many people around us were also part of.

saturday wasn’t a particularly good day for me at a personal level.  on the train down to london i had experienced part of a tooth coming away.

i sit in this moment feeling very emotional as teeth care is a huge trigger for me.  while i was young and i’m talking less than 10 years old here i experienced a visit to a dentist that i can still visualise in three parts.  these are waking up in the dentist chair with multiple faces looking down upon me and my vision moving.  second part is the leaning over a huge white sink with blood pouring out of my mouth.

the last part is back at home in the kitchen and opening the back door to go outside.  when the fresh air hit me it caused a return to the nausea and spinning i experienced in the first part of this description.

at some point the broken tooth needs to be remedied in some way.  right now i don’t have anything like the emotional strength to face doing anything about it.

 

 

my partner ran the marathon.  the thought of it right now makes me cry.  she asked me to go to london with her, to both enjoy the weekend away with her but to also be there for her.

in the weeks and days leading up to the start her taking part was impacting upon my emotional state.

my release of this came as i waited for her at the 8 mile marker.  just thinking about what to say to her brought about tears.

i needed so say nothing, my presence at the 8 mile mark being enough.

 

 

i have to admit after that 8 mile exchange i was into new unexplored territory.  the question of what was i going to do during the marathon had been asked of me several times in the week leading up to the event.

a chance meeting with the site manager from the silk mill and his wife in the running show helped me to form a plan.  he has run the marathon many times and his wife has both been a runner and a spectator.  her advise was to go to the 8 and 18 mile points.  she warned of crowds at tower bridge.

making my way from blackheath to mile 8 i overheard a conversation about avoiding the dlr during the event.  advice that i would find very useful later.

so after mile 8 i was very much into the unknown.

looking after my own needs before moving required me to find a comfort stop and something to eat.  the queue at surrey quay station was across the road so taking my time seemed to be ok.

as i finished off my food a text arrived from chris asking me if i had any paracetamol.  i knew she had some in her bag at the collection point.  her research had shown that the taking of pain killers would be of great benefit after the race.  her text alerted me to her pain and her need prior to mile 18.

my afternoon took on a new direction, something very deep and prime kicked in.  i sensed purpose and adventure.

 

 

 

from the footage i got on sunday i sense there’s a video work waiting to happen and as such i’m going to hold back on an emotional outpouring here about how the afternoon panned out.

planning this work is potentially helping me through a block i’ve been experiencing with the silk mill commission.   it’s felt very solitary.