Stop Procrastinating

For my final project, I looked back on my other projects and decided to dip into past ideas.  These ideas range from public art (that is not huge, but hidden) to being nagged.

I’ve always had some sort of affinity for things we need to do:  stop smoking, go to the gym, do well at school/work, be confortable in your own skin.  Yet it seems to be an impossible feat a lot of the time – we put these very important things on our to-do list (mental or tangible) and save it for when we have time to recap what it is we need to do.  When we look at these big self-projects, we get scared.  We don’t do, we worry.

For this project I decided to use “tagging” as a way to go about this.  I do not tag with pen or pencil, paint marker or spray can – I tag with yarn.

I knit 8 different tags to put around town, each one unique and useless, odd enough for anyone passing to look and see.  With each tag I put a phrase on a card – each phrase being something one needs to do, or is expected to do by others – and left the tag and card to work together.  The tag draws one in, the card reminds.  Panicks.  Inspires.

Here are the sets of cards alone, and cards with tags in their areas:

Maps, #2, and updated

This is the first map, of my first walk, but it has been updated.  I added notes on everywhere while I walked again the same route as I did for my first project.  Starting at the bottom left and working counter clockwise is the Big Mysterious Corporate Building with many white pickups in front and a gate that makes a spooky screechy noise all hours; the person in golf cart that rides around in gated area to guard said BMCB (Big Mysterious Corporate Building); my starting point; home; the houses I can never remember to the right (I always seem to look to the left but never the right during my walks); the school yard with big tree and it’s broken limb; Steve-the-dog’s house; the smelliest house in the neighborhood; the purple house; the hound dog’s house; and the big empty lot with a trash pile in it.

This is the map to my second walk for You’d Be Home By Now.  Starting at the top left corner that says “WORK”, and going counterclockwise (I seem to do that a lot), I pass by dumpsters; shitty, shady storefronts; the dreaded Ronstadt Center; an alley through the bus terminal, behind the businesses that line Congress; past Grill; behind it and it’s neighboring businesses in the alley; down 6th avenue; and back down Broadway to HOME SAFE.

Saying “NO” begins to be a job when you live downtown… or anywhere else where people constantly ask you fore money/cigarettes/weed/somechange for a bus ticket… i mean a 40.

Project 3: Ann Louise

This is Ann Louise.

I met Ann Louise in Canada.  She is my third cousin, second cousin to my mother, and an immediate cousin to my grandmother.  Her and her husband Ed live in Ontario, depending on one another, and chain smoking like crazy.

Originally thinking about this project, I was going to process stories about Ann Louise that weren’t true, and to let you, the reader, decide.  However, looking back on my visit and remembering being trapped in the house for somewhere around 6 hours- me and my immediate cousin of the same age, Chris – it was a startling thing to realize age, and how real things still are.  There is no immunity to real life, no matter how invincible you feel, or how unfair things are because you may be so feeble, old or young.

This project is about my process of visiting Ann Louise.  My mom, cousin and I hopped into our rented car, and from Ann Arbor, Michigan, drove a good 8 hours to and through Canada to find her house among the French-English traffic signs.  From the beginning of the day, there was an excitement, and what I find to be a fault in myself at some times, much expectation.  I woke up expecting to see this unclaimed third cousin of mine to find a great aunt-like figure who was sane, cheery, interested in me as I had been in her, easy going and fun.  Yes, the perfect relative.

We drove and drove and looked at the landscape that felt just like anywhere else.  It felt like where I grew up, and where we used to go to pick pumpkins in the pumpkin patch during the fall.  The space-age rented car drove us on as did the nostalgia that fueled me.  This was going to be a family member that I could genuinely care for, a new start, a new beginning, and a lifetime of stories.  Hell, I was excited.

Having never been to Canada (or anywhere else besides the U.S. and Mexico), this was to be a thrilling trip for me.  Surprisingly, Canada is no different than Michigan, except for the only place you can buy beer is the Beer-Mart.  And how can I forget the French signs.  Otherwise, no difference.  My glee was starting to fade as we crossed the border and into Canuck territory.

Eventually, we get to their house after being lost for a half hour, knock on the door and see an older woman all skin and bones in a button up shirt, looking happy as hell to see us.  She opens the door to see us in and hugs everybody.  Ann Louise smells dreadfully of hard liquor.

Reality hit me in the face, and I begin to learn why Ann Louise is so damned salty.  The realness of her life has caught up with her and she doesn’t know what else to do but drink.  Of course she didn’t say this, but it was clear.  Her son died at 55 of kidney problems – he was an Air Force pilot and had accomplished much in his life.  “He was a good boy, and strong, handsome too, never meant anybody no wrong!” Anna Louise would cry, to be followed by offering us drinks after drinks after drinks so she could keep going to the kitchen.

Ed, her husband, would poke fun at how thin she was getting.  So very thin, “she’s just skin and bones anymore, not an ounce of flesh on ‘er!”  Ed chortles, smokes more Players and follows it all up with an “Eh?”  He has just had a stroke, not his first, not his last.  His large belly is tight and round and he smokes cigarette after cigarette in his chair for the first 4 hours we are there.

These two people are not anything that I expected.  They have problems and hardships left and right (as I kept finding out through all of the memorial service cards for friends who had recently passed, with their son, tucked into books of self-help and how-to-grieve).  They have a small house and not many things to keep one busy, which surprised me since they rarely go out.  I began to feel very afraid of becoming old, of dying, of not being as strong but having problems just as potent as ever.

It was not a negative experience by any means.  I learned a lot from Ann Louise (she did most of the talking), and heard plenty of stories that kept me hooked.  I wished to stay and listen more, and at the same time wanted only to come home.  The thing is, you see, they are still so happy.  From seeing Ann Louise turn from party-host to tearing up in a matter of seconds at the mention of her son was… startling to see.  This is maybe cheesey to say, but you never know what you have until it is gone.  And then you are older and see important people and things around you disappear, and your life is lost a little more.  I am not old and obviously have not been before, but it feels this way.  Things will always be hard; you will just become more tired.

You will always, however, have amazing stories.

Since I have gotten back from Michigan, I have been telling everyone I know about sweet Ann Louise.  How she is crazy, funny, genuine, sad, exciting, exuberant, sincere, and at times melancholy are not the words I originally picked for this made up lady.  To be any of the latter make her so real and cunning that I would much rather pick her than who I thought I was going to meet.

As Ann Louise is quite old and ailing of this or that, I have come back knowing that she has had turns for the worse that eventually bring her out for the better as a person.  She is very caring and one of the most interesting people I’ve ever talked to.  Even when there is no more Ann Louise to visit, I will always tell my stories of seeing her, and stories she had told me (however badly I may butcher them).

Ann Louise is a stranger in my family who I can absolutely see how I am related to.

Like her, I will learn to swallow my lumps and still smile so wide.

Map

This is the map to my neighborhood walk that I did, in correlation to the Red Tag project.

The darker outlined areas are what I was most focused on during this walk.  I found it to be overwhelming to add so much detail to a map of a walk that I knew so well.  When it comes to direction in a larger environment that is not urban or familiar to me otherwise, I get completely turned around.  Having said that, I would most definitely be more detailed and confusing in drawing a map, say if I went atop Mt. Lemmon and told to map where I was going, what direction, and for what length of time.

The box in the top left corner is where I go a lot – a friend’s house – and now looking back on my drawing and seeing that my red tags were not applied at my friend’s house, I based some kind of importance to it.  It was my beginning and my end of walk destination, but apart from that means something to me in my own walking environment.

The middle triptych of rectangles is this odd collection of houses and lots, old and brand new.  The holes on the top right of those center shapes, the tree shape to the left of those, the spiky tree to the left of that and the circles next to that tree were all tagged.  Continuing left is the tree with a fallen limb (which was later removed from the site) and around a large block and down the private alley was the tree that grew between a sheet metal fence.

Seeing as how I pass by these marks often enough, I have watched the tags change.  They are removed, broken, strings separated from objects they connect to, etc.  Another map follows this, and will be posted soon.

Infernal Noise Brigade (Article 1 & 2, PP2 Response)

When I first watched the video for the Infernal Noise Brigade (INB) I was waiting to see the outcome of the hard work that was put into the process of practicing drills, marches, songs and the like.  After much talk of organization and the stressors that were unavoidable to create a mass of people into a solid marching band that acts as agitprop, there was the final moment that I was waiting for.  Marching down the street with beats that would not stand to be ignored, the INB was at last bound together by the moment and the place it was in, and the work had paid off, no doubt.  The idea that, separate from an individual attempting to create something that would change public opinion, a large group of people threatening the cause with noise could sway matters is not surprising.  Yet how they did it, why they did it, and the time in which they did it makes the matter at hand stronger.  It is agitprop, and considered protest.  Because of the way in which they approached the matter against the World Trade Organization (WTO) by creating a threat via noise as a war machine would, this became an act of war between two very different sides.
I see the INB being something that anyone could do, and I say this in a good way.  It lays out some guidelines that give way to hope that anyone can start change… if they want it.  Involving all people in the group is an excellent idea, as the article by Whitney stated “no one on a bullhorn is paid much attention anymore, and it demeans the people being directed.”  Getting rid of a “leader” and activating everyone as a crucial part to the message that is being made (I.e., everyone as leaders), there is a stronger means for the cause.  Because they are all involved in important ways, it is personally important to them.
When I read that the INB would play in the trains or on buses just as they were going from here to there with the instruments and would start playing for the sake of it, it made me think about how the bus is almost a personal space.  No one looks at each other, if only glances, and often people are plugged in to walkmen or reading a book to keep themselves in their bubble.  When a marching band begins to play on your way from school to work to home or wherever you may be going, it shakes you out of your day, out of your constant routine.  Although the marching band isn’t doing it as agitprop, it is a form of protest that individuals may change the way their lives are.  Where is one to go on the bus?  They have to hear you, it is an audience that cannot get up and leave… that is, until the next stop.
Just by watching the video, I felt moved by the music that was being created.  It felt spontaneous, maybe it was, maybe it had been practiced time and time again.  Either way, the music was strong and made me feel strong for listening to it.  As the origins of marching bands were from war, the audio is most definitely a means of inspiration, linked together with it’s meaning to stir up something they are against makes me not think of war or fighting, but of something that influences others to strive for change in a lively fashion.  After all, they will not take anything lying down, but upright, en masse, and making lots of noise.

Project 2: You’d Be Home By Now

Here is my second project… After doing some walking around and looking for poverty in the downtown area (which isn’t hard) I found myself to remember all the times I’ve ridden my bike or walked past a homeless person passed out in a doorway. On the side of a dumpster in an alley. Near the middle of the street. There are homeless everywhere downtown and they sleep where they can, covered in moving blankets or nothing at all, slumped in front of storefronts that either haven’t been open for years or just don’t give a damn.

Tucson’s downtown is depressing. It is a downtown, no doubt, but it is small, cut up into different areas (people on the other side of Stone rarely go east, and vice versa), and these weird elements of a small town that are built into Tucson are unavoidable. We are such a small town! I see people I know everywhere I go, there is no escaping being recognized! Coming back to the idea of the small town… Tucson’s downtown is even more weird. There are city buildings, businesses, houses, families, et cetera and so on, but what with all the construction and revamping of, well, pretty unnecessary downtown things (the trolley, new underpass) downtown is beginning to get comfy in becoming the welcome spot for homeless and even more unsavory drunk assholes. I know I just paired those two people together, and sometimes the two categories overlap, but homeless are not always a nuisance… in fact, I find it should be something we strive towards fixing or making a difference in the amount of homeless there are. But it’s also not my call, nor any other citizens to say what should be done about anyone besides ourselves.

So I went around downtown and found all the spots that I’ve seen people passed out. Little corners and doorways, or just plain out in the open. For every tag I wrote “If you lived here, you’d be home by now” with an arrow pointing generally towards the ground. I decided to write that as a piece on the construction that is taking place in the area and how I’ve noticed that there seem to be more and more. What are tax dollars and the city of Tucson’s money going to if all it is doing is making downtown even more shitty to be in (the people, the messed up roads and sidewalks)? I see people working every day and still… that hole in the ground is the same it’s ever been.

I’m not trying to make a statement on “Save the Homeless” but pointing out how… easy it is to say “Looks like I’m staying here tonight”… in front of this here restaurant/cafe/bar/parking lot/street. And why shouldn’t they be able to say they’re staying anywhere? The cost of living is skyrocketing, jobs are impossible to get, and the amount of people is becoming larger with every passing month. Who is the city helping by building all these shiny fancy toys for shiny fancy rich people? Why would they want to live in our downtown if the demographic is homeless and the people who work there?

I believe now, when you see signs as you drive down the road to your home saying “If you lived here, you’d be home by now,” then would be a good time to thank god you have something to call home, and hope you don’t get screwed over by a changing neighborhood.

Style Wars Analysis

In Style Wars the act of making graffiti in the public arena is pertinent to the meaning of the work.  Well, let’s carve it down to being in public first of all.  It is a huge aspect of the work to do it publicly;  the graffiti is seen by all who walk, ride, or drive past, and it affects how an individual may perceive their environment.  When seeing all the people in the subways who were asked how they felt about the graffiti, most were against it.  They wanted it to be cleaned up, and most looked almost depressed to have to ride in the subway based on the excessive amount of “bombing” and the lesser professional looking graffiti that takes groups of people over the course of many hours.

However, based on the war between bombers and the graffiti that isn’t based on the amount over the city, it seems that the bombers are doing what they want out of spite.  It isn’t pushing the “art form” forward into being taken seriously.  If anything, bombing has acted as the negative force behind graffiti art, like how stereotyped people in a society embrace the sweeping generalities applied to them, as if they are refusing to make a difference to become better people for society.  This thought can be applied the same way to graffiti artists who actually do put hard work and the soul into the pieces.  Why do they keep up this act of vandalism and second-hand destruction of public material if they know in the end, it will just make them look like the bad guys?  It is because in this professional way of creating the art, they are making a difference between themselves and the bombers.  They are not scribbling garbage tags over and over again.  There is style, technique and an extraordinary amount of effort involved, as one can see in Seen’s graffiti on the side of the building (which eventually gets tagged over by a bomber).
Using the body as a means to risk themselves for their art, the graffiti artists make way for a different type of art style.  It is out of the studio, out of the home, and into the general public.  They want to show you the beauty of what they do, and perhaps it is in this way (in public), they are showing that they are indeed a lower class, but don’t they have a talent that is comparable to contemporary artists?
When one burner describes himself and his work as “going all city,” it is a reference to his art, him self, and his social standing.  By viewing “going all city” as a strictly urban platform, it is evident to see that the act of spray painting is already notorious for being an urban activity (and so is the vandalism of trains, walls, etc.).  The style of the burns is expressive, from what I can see, of lifestyle.  Being in an urban environment, things such as architecture, transportation, and the basic design elements of all things urban are modernized, which rubs off onto the people who live in such urban environments.  Jagged corners, sharp diagonals, overly stylized curves and added detail are very much relative to the area in which the graffiti artist is in.  Without pre-existing urban developments, graffiti would be extremely different, and the propagandistic messages that are sometimes etched on the sides of trains would most likely be more imagery than text.
The idea that bodywork is involved in hip-hop culture is powerful in that these forms of art are highly important to the demographic of the people in Style Wars.  There are white, black, Puerto Rican, Mexican people involved, and in combining efforts of creating such art forms as graffiti, break dancing, hip-hop music, et cetera, there is an outstanding bond that is shown.  They may be of different races and backgrounds, but the fact that they all lay on the same level of society (a lower class), they are bound together not by race or of basic similarities, but of something that they create together.  Break dancing plays a role in the language of freedom because it is a form of expression.  Art as an expressionistic activity involves any individual who takes part, and immediately there is something that can be shared.  In this way there is a community that forms right away, based solely on creating visuals, bodywork, or the spoken word that many people of the same social class can agree with.
When the one-armed graffiti artist states that “it’s a matter of bombing, that I can do it,” it refers to what he sees as what he’s allowed to do, or what he thinks he’s allowed to do.  Being confined by these means, he works on graffiti as if it is his life.  Of course, striving towards this art form in all seriousness as he does, he has created a deeper meaning to the act of bombing.  There is no question of whether or not it is important to his life;  after all, making graffiti is how he lost an arm.  A constant reminder of what could be rendered as a mistake, he has embraced his loss to become a driving force to show how he can still make good graffiti (which is seen as a low art form to most of the city) with only one arm.
The tombs are referring to the origins of the tubes; original maps, as well as tags and graffiti from the first taggers and most all other graffiti artists of the city rest in these “tombs.”  The tombs act as an underground collective, kind of an homage to themselves where they will not be censored since it isn’t above ground for all the city to see.  The hip-hop kids who are involved in graffiti and tagging of the city not only have an involvement via the paint they lay down on the streets and trains, but they have reconstructed the lay-out of the city in greater ways.  Because all classes of the city disagree with the amount of graffiti that litters their city (and so do the city council and mayor), the city was reconstructed to make the act of graffiti-making near impossible.  The trains were spotless and fences were erected at every station so the bombers couldn’t get to them.  All because it started with graffiti, the reflection of how others are so opposed has created a new realm of the city in which it has cost millions more to stop it from happening, as well as a totally different aesthetic of the city.  Ironically, the “freedom” which graffiti artists wish to possess has been stifled by misinterpretations of the higher-ups in the city and also held back by those who have lowered the bar with nonsensical tags.
When it comes to the general tagging and graffiti done by city kids, there are obstacles to overcome in order to become taken seriously.  Because of the wars between burners and bombers, it becomes more about differences in what each “artist” wants out of their act of spray painting in the area of the city.  It doesn’t mean much more than means of defense against one another when it becomes a war of tagging.  When it comes to Banksy’s work of stencils and graffiti, he creates ironic messages about the world we live in today – most people can relate to the ideas he’s trying to convey, as they have to do with war, famine, capitalism, etc.  By applying his art in the form of world issues, it becomes open to all and thus has a greater meaning.  On the other hand, with basic tags or graffiti in the streets of New York, not everybody can see what the message at hand is.  There are cultural aspects that only certain groups may know about, or the who’s-who of the graffiti world.  I found the most interesting burns to be when Mayor Koch was getting ready to rid the city of tags and the ability to tag by putting up fences.  The burners and bombers knew about this and on a train going by was the message “Dump Koch.”  This is exciting because there is a meaning to it that involves the artist trying to find his or her place in the city, rather than feuding with one another.
The imaging of hip-hop culture defies societal expectations and stereotypes of social scales (such as how hip-hop is more relative to the lower class) since there is a freedom that comes from accepting who you are, and taking what is defined as a lower-class level into what can be represented into an intelligent art form.  I believe that wealthier white kids are attracted to graffiti making because it is evident to them that this is new art.  Graffiti has definitely taken off since it’s beginnings and has become it’s own form of pop culture, developing genres such as pop surrealism, which defines urban living mixed with the surreal which graffiti did in the first place.  There are no limits to who can do graffiti, which is the beautiful thing about it.  As I stated earlier, all races of people have become involved in graffiti, and in this way it is established on it’s own as being a way to be free by creating art.  Art is about no boundaries and no discriminations, and graffiti takes this on.  If you like it, accept it;  just as in the gallery of New York when the graffiti was “peeled off the train” and put up for all to see, the graffiti artists accepted that art-socialites were interested in their work – and they weren’t more than happy just for money.
Based on how one of these graffiti artists got injured, he literally puts his neck out for his work.  “Yeah, I vandalism (sic), but I did something to make your eyes open up, right? So what are you talking about it for?”  In order to make an artistic statement he has risked his own health… And at the same time he has created an artistic integrity in graffiti by putting much technique and “style” into each piece, making it more than just tagging or “bombing.”  I agree with his statement since art to me is about justifying the integrity of the artist and mostly to the viewer.  Whatever you view, you take into your own context and attempt at developing personal meaning before anything else.  When you can apply personal meaning first of all, it becomes more important and says something about the personal observing the piece.  While graffiti applies to the people who create it since it is also a per formative piece, there lies a deeper meaning in this involvement, and others who have not participated may not see any relevancy to how the graffiti communicates with community.  It only looks like destruction.
Art in the gallery scene is viewed by some as a “good investment” and it’s “going someplace.”  Graffiti in the art gallery as a fine art, however… is this what the artists actually want or is it important to make money off of it?  I believe that the power of graffiti is the risk of getting caught, of the wars between groups like bombers and burners.  There is a huge territorial aspect of graffiti that is lost when it’s put in the gallery.  When this cultural message is put into a safe, cozy gallery space, where no one can touch it or change it, and only certain people are allowed to see it, it means something different, something about capitalism and money-making.  Graffiti becomes not something about the self or the personal identity, but of fine art (which I believe it is in it’s own right, and doesn’t have to be because it is in a gallery or recognized in an art space).  Fine art, also, has become about money; buying fine art means investing, and just as the woman in the gallery said, “It’s definitely a good investment and is going someplace.”  Because graffiti is so fresh and different from the contemporary art of the time, it is seen as being the new art.  It is groundbreaking and fresh.
As one of the city councilmen stated, “They should pick up brooms and brushes and clean up the city, do something that helps society.”  This can absolutely be applied to ANY artist!  Why don’t artists stop making art and contribute to the society?  Why don’t they become doctors or teachers?  Or, since artists are rarely seen higher up in society at all points of time in the world (with the exception of the late renaissance when art and science was considered a higher means of thinking), they should become the one’s who clean up society.  The lowest class.

Project 1: Red Tags

As I walked around my neighborhood, looking around for something, anything that became an apparent pattern to me, I began to realize that there was something depressing amidst the brightly colored houses that surrounded me. Leaving what I like to call “central Tucson” (central means a different thing to everybody here in Tucson, I’ve come to realize), and moving to a downtown neighborhood (between Broadway and 22nd), there is an abundance of plants. Plants, plants, everywhere! Yet… I was surprised to see the amount of trees that had been altered.

Just as in Goldsworthy’s art expressing how a creature alters it’s land and how that defines the environment long after they are gone, I saw that all the trees that littered my hood were slooowly being controlled by having huge branches cut off. This makes me feel like a tree-hugger for saying it, but it made me feel kind of bummed out. I understand reasons for cutting the trees. We like to have our pathways not be obstructed by anything. We like going from point A to point B with ease, and sometimes trees stand in the way of that. I walked this path a few times, back and forth in the day and at night, and realized that not only is this a pattern that I began to put together (in everyone’s front yard, a full, luscious tree… that pretty much goes straight up and down because someone got clipper-happy), but also a matter of desire lines coming into full effect.

I’m no saint when it comes to desire lines. I want to walk down the street and not run myself into a tree limb just like anyone else. But there were branches cut that seemed pretty unnecessary. I can name a good amount of trees that sit at a 45 degree angle that should be cut down. Those, we wait for those to fall over completely. The little ones, we pick on.

Here are images from my first walk. During my second walk, I went around again and sketched where the photos were that I took and my path.

After seeing all the cut limbs I decided to wrap the trees. If I noticed this, I’m sure other people would. Wrapping is something that I see as a kind of nurturing, or of something that is trying to be hidden. The red of the yarn, though, not very hidden. So it’s about nurture. By connecting these things, or tagging them, I have pointed out the outstanding issue of the unnecessary amputations of tree limbs. I know, it sounds like hippie-dippie stuff, but this doesn’t feel hippie to me. It’s kind of like how cops pull over bike riders instead of telling the crackhead in the bathroom of the cafe you go to to put the pipe down! Or busting dealers at the Ronstadt station… It’s hard work, so no one wants to do it. There’s something primal about “destroying” something (like cutting a tree down) that makes us feel like gods. That’s a whole ‘nother story though, isn’t it?

Anyways, by other people noticing this, maybe people will stop cutting their trees in such ugly, awkward ways. Because, well, I’m gonna point it out for you. And give it some love.

Rivers & Tides Analysis

Rivers and Tides Analysis

Goldsworthy connects himself with being “in touch” with the new environment, even though he describes himself as a “stranger in a strange place”.  He states that he has “shook hands with the place” and he begins to work.  By involving himself in the environment, he is making himself a part of it.  As his works are environmental and not permanent, he is mocking the forgiveness and impermanence of all things that compose nature, as he himself is a small part of.

Goldsworthy is referring to the icicle sculpture he created on the rock face that, as the sun began to come up, he discovered that it had become illuminated on both sides.  A pleasant surprise, the potential of each project is random and surprising, even though as he was creating the icicle sculpture next to the river he expressed how he wished he had gotten there an hour earlier so as the sun wouldn’t negate his hard work while he was working on it.  The icicle piece begins to slowly melt at the joints and fall apart after he finds the beauty in the land he knows little about gives him a gift to highlight his work.

The river that Goldsworthy is building next to is based on the ice that comes from the water of the river.  The coldness of the night creates the icicle formations which he has used to create his sculpture, and he depends on the time of day in which he creates.  As the sun comes up, the icicles are “destroyed” or rather, they are melted to be regenerated into icicles the next night and the next and the next until seasons change, and the cycle of the day that is crucial to the regeneration of the icicles births them and also causes it’s death.
Also as in his next piece by the shore of the river where Goldsworthy has built a dome the height of himself with an oculus at the top, the pieces of drift wood brought up by the river will return back to the water to be washed up again and again.  By organizing the wood into the dome to create his organized environmental art piece, he is involving himself in the nature of this new land.  Just as the tide washes the wood to shore, no matter that it has been collected and locked into shape, it will always return to whence it came.

The difference between the destruction of ephemeral works and the mutations or evolution are distinct in that as it is destroyed, these natural works are recycled back into the surroundings.  Not necessarily destroyed but waiting to be regenerated, pieces such as the dome that float off into the river are to be disassembled from what the human hand has placed them to be and play a different role – or the same role as it did before being assembled.  In ephemeral works that occur naturally, there is not necessarily and destruction at all, as the thing that is becoming removed from what it was prior will act either as pieces to arrange something new (like how reefs in the ocean are destroyed by waves and grow back), or the pieces that have been disassembled are used to create something entirely new and may play a minute role in this new creation.  The power in this is that there will always be something new to look forward to, though it is not always an evolution of product involved with environment, the materials will reproduce in order to act in the harmony that it once coexisted with to do it all again in cycle.  In relation to human experience, there is always a flux in ups and downs; life is surely not just degenerative or lowly.  In order for there to be a definitive way to describe morose emotion or pain, there must be joy.  The opposite is true as well, there must be suffering for one to recognize happiness.  Thus, as human existence depends on random chance, how we see things as “destructive” can be strongly linked to the things that make us happy. (Some examples from friends and myself: your grandmother dies while you are poor and about to have to live in your car (again) and she leaves you some $50,000; a loved one is getting ready to leave for a couple weeks and the outcome is that you will be happier to see one another in the end; you see people you idolize act like children – you establish you will never be that when you are older.)
For one to think that anything may feel like destruction is morose.  The difference between nature and human experience is that people make their own luck and happiness, whereas nature exists in it’s ancient cycle.  Perhaps if humans were given centuries, we would also figure out what makes us unhappy is not what defines us.

As Goldsworthy goes on, he is taught about place through the aspect of time based on where he decides to work.  Since he typically works near water, as this is his inspiration, Goldsworthy is motivated to create his works around what the environment demands.  He is not the one who has a say so in what he has called “his studio” (in fact, he doesn’t call it his studio, but for the sake of creating art work, that is what I will call it).  Because he has made the natural world his arena to work in, he must obey limitations of space, material, and of course, time.  Time is the unavoidable erosion to everything on the planet, and with that thought, I believe that Goldsworthy takes that into mind when creating.  That he cannot save the world or himself, he cannot stop destruction of beautiful things, but that he can harmonize with time as what it is and not try to change the inevitable.  This stands for his powerful art making and his will to “let go” of projects that he works so hard on in sometimes extreme conditions.

The work of Goldsworthy on the beach grew in proportion to his understanding of the stone.  In my own experience, I can relate to this aspect of how strong or weak I find a project of mine to be, but on a different level.  Working on projects in digital photography give way to understanding more and more about how well you can make a piece, both technically and conceptually.  Technically, it is obvious to me how well you understand what you are trying to do.  For example, I duplicate myself in photos, and after many attempts, my skill has gotten better to the point where my photos are seamless and thusly make my concept stronger.  Technique will of course grow with practice and how often you do it, but I do believe one’s heart must be in the art, as I’ve seen many projects that remain stagnant time and time again.  There is no push to become better.  However, when there is a push to hone technical skills, the concept is aided as well, and messages are stronger.  I know that since I did not start out as a technical artist, but as a conceptual one, my ideas thrive more on my growing ability to visually stimulate, and do not rely on it.

There is a difference between seeing Goldsworthy’s work in a museum (as photographs) versus on-site.  Because his art can be considered earth works, there is an aspect to the piece that is very much involved in the environment and always will be.  To take his work out of context, as just a sculpture of sticks bound together only by the weight of each piece of wood, it loses meaning indefinitely.  Having these pieces in the area in which they were conjured makes for a commentary about the place it exists in, and about how nature as we see it, whether one sees it as a stagnant thing or a powerful force depending on lapses of time, changes these works of art as nature sees fit.  In a museum you MUST NOT TOUCH the art; in nature, the art must fend for itself, and makes a statement on the inevitability of forces we cannot control.

As  Goldsworthy begins talking about sheep, there is a certain identity that he is trying to face the viewer with, not yet in the work he is creating with the wool, but essentially of how the sheep do more than serve purposes of wool, meat, milk, and so on.  How they affect the landscape, he notes, is crucial to the environment and thus crucial to one’s perception of their surroundings.  Goldsworthy notes that there are no trees in the area because of the sheep; they have affected the natural landscape and it has formed to what the sheep require.  To understand this creates a different viewpoint, personally, of why he is interested in creating work based upon a creature that affects the land.  There is a beauty to the honesty of what the sheep do, and breaks free from the stereotype of this animal.  Considering that stereotyping sheep means that they are stupid, wooly, flocking things that go “Baa” and eat grass all day, I can say that by understanding more about how the location is changed by the sheep also changes what nature evolves to do on it’s own.  In covering the cobblestone walls that keep the sheep in with fleece, a product of the sheep, Goldsworthy is in a way giving kudos to them by combining what naturally occurs slowly over time such as the land with this animal that we can in some ways relate to (a “short” life span in comparison to nature, how the sheep changes it’s environment by what it eats, the amount of birth and death, etc.).  And of course there is the idea of people being “sheep”; people who blindly follow one another for the sake of being grouped.  Human beings can be generally categorized into this based solely on corporations and our need to consume, just as the sheep consume and mar the land in a way.

Because the sheep changed the landscape in such a strong way, there will of course be an impression made.  Just as how when human beings leave a place, there is a “footprint” that will always exist and play some sort of role in the way the land acts in the future.  Existing in the environment affects the environment, just as it affects it’s inhabitants.

Focus on a part of the movie that taught  you something you haven’t considered before, or something that you would like to be mindful of during your next exploration in site.

Rivers & Tides, although I’ve seen the movie before, is inspiring to me to work with natural/pre-existing materials to the environment.  Essentially, to work with what you have.  That in itself is inspiring and gives whatever you make a stronger tone as a piece of art that demands nothing from the artist or viewer besides artistic integrity.  I find that making a mark where I go is exciting, but permanence is slightly imposing to me.  I have found also through experimenting with my own marks/artwork that permanence is rejected when it is public.  So a slow evolution of impermanence can grow to be lasting as the sheep in the land did.

TAL – Mapping Senses

In “This American Life” issue Mapping Senses, Ira Glass interviews a series of people interested in the concept of mapping to better understand their environments.  The first interview is with Denis Wood in Raleigh, North Carolina.  The interview consists of Wood describing to Glass the ways in which he maps the neighborhood he lives in.  In maps such as the pumpkin map, Wood explains how the amount of pumpkins in each area is descriptive of people’s wealth in the neighborhood.  There are clusters of pumpkin heads in the northern most part of the photo collage, and looking at the photo of Boylan’s Hill, it shows how the hill grows as it goes north – so, then, this shows that wealthier people of this neighborhood live in the hills.  It is interesting to see how Wood was drawn to certain areas, to become more photogenic and put on the map are based on the wealthier part of the community.  More technical maps like street lights, however, are not secluded to any one section.  Basing maps on an individuals principles or lifestyles exhibited in the neighborhood becomes more interesting than general factors of street lights or sewers, though these things can dissect the community and show layers and layers of a cities nervous system.
When hearing what Toby Lester had to say about mapping ambient sounds in his work and home environment, it was surprising to hear how many “sad” notes exist in our everyday life.  Perhaps this explains why we are so incapable emotionally of being cooped up in a room for hours, faxing, emailing, sitting.  The ambient noises that surround us have a lot to with mood and one may not even realize this affectation on the psyche.  Mapping through sound appealed to me, although I would like to implore on recording audio of people and of their lives that contain much more than you ever hear walking by.  A sentence of what someone says can construct numerous stories and assumptions about this person.  Lester has decided to address how sounds affect us in an individual state.
After hearing the interview between robot and researcher, I looked up the electronic nose online for about an hour.  This idea that there will be something that replicates a human sense, and will soon be able to do it better than we can, is amazing and evident that we are moving so fast in time, we may be creating well and fast enough that we don’t need to be around anymore – there’s robots that can smell for us!  However, the fact that this electronic nose can smell onset illnesses and can tell when food is about to go bad for food companies is comparable to the fact that, well, when you hear the phrase “electronic nose”, I’m sure you don’t think of it being a life-changing invention.  Unless you were born without a nose, I don’t think it sounds like a great leap for humanity.
The last two acts of the show involving touch and taste weren’t so impressive as the other senses were.  Listening to the touch sequence with Deb Monroe I found uninteresting and I didn’t exactly follow what she was mapping… or how.
Taste as a form of mapping was slightly more interesting, although from what I heard Jonathan Gold saying again and again, it sounded like he really wanted a project to exist before it existed.  He wanted to eat at all of these restaurants for the sake of knowing, for when friends want to know where’s good to eat, or to set his own goal.  I understand that he is now a food critic in Los Angeles and now does this as a job, though I’m unsure how this creates a map.  Food places follow other food places so they will get business, and unless he is finding absolute holes-in-the-wall based on some other census. (I.E., businesses that are out of the way and only get 5% profit on good days.  This doesn’t mean they’re bad restaurants.)  I do admire that he utilizes himself as a means to experiment with taste and go out on a limb to eat anything the restaurant has to offer as his “dinner”, but, as I stated before, I would love to see him be less general with where he goes (Pico Boulevard is already mapped out!) and search more.