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My brain has been on fire since my first classes in critical positions and methods yesterday. I have wanted to write ever since but I won’t. I have decided the best way to percolate these ideas is to not jump the gun.

My plan is to work on Thursdays and allow my fiery brain time to process and filter Wednesday’s ideas through my work.

Today I got up early – well, relatively early – and took some measurements for the temporary installations on B-57.

I also took many, many photos for a mapping project inspired by a post on Stephen B. MacInnis’ Painter’s Progress blog.

http://sbmacinnis.wordpress.com/2011/09/29/anna-dr…

Anna’s map follows me everywhere I go these days. Why did she redraw the house? Was she dissatisfied with the drawing of the house itself or its orientation? Where was she standing in her head as she drew?

I love watching the map of where I am physically situated right now change. I remember the first time I recognized from a distance a tower close to where I am staying and the first time I asked, “have we just past by such and such” and was right and I am watching with interest how the coming together of this map in my head is sometimes accompanied by shadow-feelings of loss and regret.


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I am under house-arrest until I have finished my budget but I can happily report that the weather outside is crap.


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When my mom is sad she likes to lie on the floor and colour. Over the weekend I wasn’t feeling sad, but I am currently limited in terms of comfortable work spaces and the conservatory floor seemed the best bet. I must say, this “on your belly on the floor” thing is quite wonderful. You can wave your feet back and forth, back and forth and it feels like your own private cheering section. I liked it quite a lot.

I was following up on some writing I had done about a This Town is Small/City Nights event I attended in late July and a piece I started since arriving in the UK. At City Nights I had the opportunity to watch Becka Viau work and it got me thinking about whether or not it would be possible to create a collaboration based solely on 1) watching others work and 2) extrapolating a “how to” which one could then follow.

Here is an exherpt from my Becka Viau observations that night…

“-she started with her own, well practiced lines

-she then went hunting for shapes she recognized

-she would walk away from the shapes when things stopped happening and…

-revisit another work in progress

-sometimes when things stopped happening, it was because a piece was done and…

-these she signed and dated”

When I started to practice my own lines on the conservatory floor I did not feel sad, but I must confess I did, after a while, miss my mother and my own place in my own small town. But in that beautiful, happy-sad kind of way.

Can staring and subsequent thinking ever constitute a dialogue?

tags: boys and girls, superheroes

http://www.beckaviau.com/

http://thistownissmall.wordpress.com/

http://thistownissmall.wordpress.com/programs/city…

https://www.facebook.com/thealibi


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