My earlier drawings and paintings had this map-like, diagramtic element to them. As the work has shifted to being more atmospheric or painterly, I refrain from trying to explain what's going on in the paintings as much because they're not this kind of rational descriptions or efforts to articulate something in that way. I'm not trying to spell out a story... you feel the painting, and the reason you read the mark is because you also feel the mark.
Thanks to his stint as Wallpaper* guest editor this month, [Robert] Wilson’s [!!!] video portraits have taken on a new guise on the pages of the magazine. With the help of a nifty piece of acetate and the pre-cinema technique of OmbroCinema, many of them now animate the pages of our October issue. ‘What we’ve tried to do with the magazine is to make it more dimensional,’ he explains. ‘The new technology we’re using brings the images to life, creating something that’s more interactive and allowing the reader to be a participant in the composition.’
My excuse was that I didn't have any leather or waxed cotton cord. In actuality, I had it bagged up in my box of supplies the whole time I've been in New York!
Generally, I don't take inspiration from anything in particular, but tonight this image from a play directed by Robert Wilson has been lingering in my mind.
And, oddly enough, Fleetwood Mac (Rumours era) and Fever Ray on shuffle have been really doing it for me lately.
So after I sifted through some supplies given to me when I still lived in Hawai'i, I busted out two necklaces. One for me and one for the roomie. I was planning my outfit for tomorrow night around a pair of crazy pants, but I might have to plan it around this new necklace of mine. Or do crazy pants and new necklace. I think I'm FINALLY getting my groove back.
For the past two Tuesdays, I've spent a good amount of time in two different used bookstores and walked away with these books.
From The Book Cellar at the Webster Library: Robert Wilson: The theater of images and Man Ray in Fashion
From Mast Bookshop: The Makioka Sisters and The Key, both by Junichirō Tanizaki.
Becoming engrossed in a book is one of the simplest of pleasures that I'm getting back in touch with. I'm used to seeing information fly before my eyes, whether holding down the space bar on Google Reader or scrolling to the bottom of the article to get the summarizing paragraph. Setting aside a few hours to sit in a coffee shop or lie in the park just to read a book seems absurd to me when I really think about it. No more just reading on the bus or subway!
Lipstick traces on a cigarette. Every memory lingers with me yet. I got it bad like I told you before, I'm so in love with you, Don't leave me no more. Won't you come on home? Won't you come on home?
I'm having a ring that I sketched made for me by the awesome folks over at Paul J. Armbruster in 'Aiea, Hawai'i. Even though I could've went crazy with it, I opted for a simple design that incorporates my astrological sign and my favorite number.