project consists of a series of small installations and paintings
created over this past year, a year in which I changed everything:
my life, my job, my long-term relationship and my abode. I have
always been fascinated by gesture, my own and others.
I aimed to explore and possibly subvert assumptions about life/office
nexus. Using post-its, embossed envelopes, bills, business
cards copying paper and an HB catalogue I no longer needed,
I both used and divested myself of the workplace trappings.
And I asked, what were the use-values of these products that
denote productivity and human industry?
In one of my works, HB Catalogue, I have attempted my personal
greening bringing in nature into the unnatural environment
of office. (For the past sixteen years, I have lived within
ten minutes of Walt Whitmans birthplace, often walking
on trails where Walt may very well have walked.)
the time, I had no studio space except my bedroom, which can
best be described as a confined space. Nevertheless, there was
room enough for gesture and for the creational impulse, which
to use Bergson s phrase, I consider the elan vital and
a visual DNA of sorts. Sometimes I worked while sitting in bed
(arguably, my bed became temporally, my studio).
I then cast about the constituent parts of each installation
onto the floor in a partially random partially composed/arranged/arrayed
I had never been a post-its kind of person. Stacks of
them lay about, languishing in my drawer, as it were. But now
they had a life of their own, liberated from their sticky source.And,
although I never studied calligraphy, I believe the brush strokes
correspond to Asian scholar/poets calligraphic renderings
although that was not my specific intention at the
time. In short, I did not feel confined by the small area of
each individual post-its. As to the lunch bags, although I never
managed to make a brown bag lunch for myself nor anyone else
despite the seemingly omnipresence of a stack of brown bags
in my house, visually dogging me for a number of years as I
moved them around in an attempt to hide them and thus allay
my guilt at my utter lack of domesticity, what better use can
I have made of these pesky objects? Nay, now I revel in them,
in my gloss on the text.
project also may have germinated while I revisited T.S. Elliots
groundbreaking poem, The Wasteland, a copy of which
I acquired while embarking upon this project. Having studied
it in college, certain lines resonated, specifically his importuning
(in capital letters), HURRY UP ITS TIME as
well as the line, I measure my life in coffee spoons.
I kept wanting to change the phrase coffee spoons
to coffee cups, as I had become fascinated with the trace curve
line formation made by a coffee cup left on a table or surface.
I began to replicate this symbol of daily office life with my
own gesture. This evolved into series of color studies which
I call coffee cup color studies. These are memory incanabula,
if you will. And, it may well be that this project does not
have completion, that I, too measure my life if not in coffee
cups or in spoons then in more normal means of human commerce,
human social interaction, interchange.