25.07.2008
this is the second time i've been near a computer apart from dire and absolute need in what, two months? weird.
so, apologies all around if you've been getting annoyed with the goober that's not returning your calls. i've gone through a strange transformation: the phone is now the best and preferred way to get ahold of me.
a while back i picked up a copy of yinsh. seemed like a good thing to do at the time. every so often i'm in the mood for a good abstract strategy game. people get weird about chess and go is a stupid fad at cafes around town. yinsh is something i haven't seen around and is the kind of thing that, despite its no doubt being huge in other parts, i can say "i was into it before it was cool." it's what living in victoria is all about: the mingling of weird fads and cafes.
so, the birth of a new project is underway. i suppose there's an analogy to made about peeing on a test strip to see if i'm in luck. that's the state it's in. i know i want to do a project and i've been collecting old window sashes, antique glass and mirrors, antique hardware, strange tools, and other oddities of age and wear. i already have a few old frames and a violin case in the works.
some notes, though. i recently read ecclesiastes and it makes more sense to me now. in effect, i have to admit that i have nothing to say. everything is indeed onanistic and vain and pointing this out is no different. but, now that i have nothing to say and nothing i want to say, saying anything at all is so much easier.
concept for a show: renovate an heritage home. all the old material of architectural significance (windows, doors, moldings, flooring, hardware, etc) that is no good for restoration is saved as-is when removed. this residual of the restoration is hung from ceiling supports in no particular order in a gallery with white walls. everything will be hung with between five and six feet clearance from the floor and will fill the room so people have to walk around everything without hitting their head. shostakovitch will be cranked out of a cheap, old ghettoblaster placed on the floor in the middle of the room. give it a dumb kitschy title like "so you think you can dance."