The virgin, the glass and the glitterball Last night I went through the footage of my Pepper’s Ghost experiment projecting it on the wall of my lodgings. Luckily it was a silent version a boon which enabled us to listen in on the activities of my upstairs neighbour. Miss Brown had another visitor last night, another heavy footed male this time with a propensity for loud television programmes. I was nearly on the point of getting annoyed at the interruption when there was a scream, silence and some furniture moving. After that, all was mercifully quiet. I made my companion sit through the screening several times to ascertain its effect leaving her to watch it alone while I bathed. After returning from my ablutions (a long restorative bath and a little detective fiction) I found her asleep with the film still playing. I hope this is a good sign. In anticipation that it is I have included a few stills below.
Thursday, 4 February 2010After many a hiatus I made it to my studio today for a serious day’s work. I made a tiny lit sculpture of a scooter stuck on some flowing stuff and another of a young woman sinking into glowing stuff. The Pepper’s Ghost films also went surprisingly well although I do manage to get into some painful positions while filming. This time I was in a tight crouch, my knee burning with strain, holding an aged and very hot slide projector at an awkward angle. After some minutes however I forgot the pain in my knee as I was momentarily distracted by my smouldering leg. The films seemed to turn out tolerably well.
It has been a long battle but now, thankfully, both my companion and myself seem to be out of danger. Barring another dreadful relapse we should soon be ready to resume our adventures. While bedridden I have been taking stock of my unfulfilled ideas and have resolved to spend some time at my new studio finally making some work. I am aware that my plans may come to nothing and many of the ideas feel to me weak and abortive but if allow my inertia to go on much longer there will be no films for Whitstable at all.
The animation of the dead spaceman is going very slowly, I find myself daunted by the mountain of drawing needed for an animation that may not satisfy. The original footage which I filmed from a projection on my bedroom wall is so beautiful I am finding it hard to believe that animating it has any value. I have never previously presented ‘found’ footage as my own and as I have in the past had great trouble with music copyright I am concerned about the legalities of doing so. I have resolved to make a small test animation of a few repeating frames which should at least nip my worries in the bud.
But this piece is not for Whitstable. The Vampire film I have been making in my lodgings seems lifeless and beyond hope; I do not have the energy to go on with it at present. Instead I have instructed my companion to attempt some magic tricks which will be performed at secret locations in Whitstable upon our visit in March. In my studio I also intend to make a number of short films of objects using the “Pepper’s Ghost” illusion. So far I have chosen, water pouring into a glass, a glitter ball (such a common object in contemporary art) and a religious icon. Hopefully these and my putative film of the enigmatic Mr Bown will produce at least one worthwhile piece.
Then there is this blog. I have in the past turned these writings into books, cheaply produced populist fictions with shiny covers. My companion recently told me of a book bound in a murder’s skin; his ear protruding from its front cover, this idea excites me. However, I am uncertain as to how I might locate a bookbinder who works with such materials. Craftsmen are so hard to find these days. This also brings up the vexing problem of cost, how much would a run of a hundred say skin bound books be?
Sunday, 31 January 2010
Transformation
My companion lies listless amongst her books. One of them, Sontag’s “Illness as a Metaphor” reads: ‘TB is disintegration, febrilization, dematerialization; it is a disease of liquids – the body turning to phlegm and mucus and sputum and, finally, blood….’
At a local hostelry I had a photograph taken of my sideburns.
Sunday, 31 January 2010 8am
It is day six. My companion, who seemed to have made a good recovery is today quite drained. Her symptoms include a languid weakness and constantly running nose. I myself am no better and find the only activity I can find the strength for is writing this journal. The only part of me that has vigour is my left sideburn which grows in inversely proportionate vigour to my torpor. It has now reached out beyond my ears. I am not sure whether to let it go on, or like a treasured rose bush prune it hard to encourage vigour. Thankfully my reveries have just been interrupted by a cacophonous banging in the street, it sounds like my peccant neighbour has returned!
Saturday, 30 January 2010
Northern Landscape The fifth day of my illness has been characterised by a feeling of agoraphobia. I sit alone in my flat eyes shifting nervously as I listen to the mumblings of my neighbours and cars passing outside. Earlier I attempted a visit to my studio but found the walk across town intolerable and exhausting. Symptoms included a shaking in my legs a bubbling feeling in my chest and sudden urge to cry. I could go no further. My companion was most concerned but I urged her to carry on as she had errands to perform. Now in closing silence I await her return.
