GladMan Tidings

He is dressed in white, has a deep voice and is the outspoken voice of putting our waste in thin plastic envelopes, usually green but sometimes white.

The bag is what is shared with another character that makes rounds about this time of year.

But enough of that, time for Milk and Other Good Things.

Pictures @ an exhibition

These two pieces are presently on show at the Art Gallery of Grenfell Campus, Memorial University of Newfoundland.

I think they are about space and experience. A view of Dublin on my first voyage there in October 02010. It is always a question of separating ones own experience form the knowledge acquired from books, maps and Google.

An spéir ar Bhaile Átha Cliath (02010-10)
Subtitle: 173rd Cantos for Gilles Deleuze
Medium: Inkjet on Tyvek  :: 120cm X 120cm :: Ed. 1/5

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and

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Dublin Marathon (02010-10-25)
Medium: Inkjet on Tyvek :: 120cm X 120cm :: Ed. 1/5

Too long

Too long since the last post. Images piling up losing context and foresight.

Have been thinking about ownership in the online universe. Does an asset really belong to anyone anymore and does ownership actually mean anything today? Of course the question is rhetorical, a rhetoric; it could even be sophistic. All resides in the user. Freedom is a responsibility and that is so much more important than a right, it is the social contract.

Long live the little animals that run wild in the kingdom of the wild.

Up from the ground came a bubblin' crude.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with Oil, and the Word was Oil.

Low level fly-by

As we shuffle through the langscape, a landguage ensues. Keeping eyes on the ground, careful not to stumble on unforeseen events, a pattern emerges. It is really all about seeing those patterns, some call it conspiracy paranoia, others see it as simply paying attention. Il faut bien faire attention aux fentes dans le parcours tout en gardant les yeux bien fixés sur le but du voyage. C'est bien ici la particularité d'une mouvance, continue, lente, en perpétuité.

The River

Water,

Textures,

A walk.

Les Lumières

Et ce fut l'age des lumières. Le moi et le soi se plient et se replient.

Autobahn

On the road, to the road, in the road.

Through the road, if such can be found; it is found.

On the way to where we should be.
In that place that is between where we are,
And where we are going.
Some call it Pennsylvania.
Or Erewhon.

C'est bien cela la mouvance.
Et.
On t'aime Gérald.

Sang Titre

Once inside or around...

Prim(e)(al)

ONE

TWO

THREE

Au tours

Getting around the subject is sometimes the only way to enter.

Entering the subject is sometimes the only way to get around it.

Waiting on Gadd's Head

Image captured while waiting to photograph a kayak tour to Gadd's Cove; waiting is a good thing for photography, it seems to be then that the unconscious decides to play.

L'attente et l'espoir sont cousines. Comme tous ces liens de familles, la relation n'est pas toujours harmonieuse ni rempli de frictions. On attend... là... ici, n'importe. Quand on attend, il n'y a rien d'autre à faire sauf regarder, sentir et écouter. Ce sont ces temps où le paysage va raconter ses secrets, où le corps entre l'espace par une fente qui est réellement une porte ornée par le va et vient du quotidien.

Mouvances Chapitre 3

Et puis il fut ce qu'il fut. Et parfois même la couleur fais des voyages.

Mouvances Chapitre 2

Asteroids & Baseball

Parapathetic Supplies

Once on the red planet it will be necessary to carry things from home. Only the landguage of Earth will comfort and heal the lacerating effects of deep space travel. How far can one travel away from home before completing a full circle. There is something about infinity in this.

News from the red planet

Good news, we have reached our destination according to prescribed itinerary. Rover pushes ahead, opening a path. We travel slowly in the crimson language of this space. It is accommodating in its hostility.

Between the Betweens

Sometimes, just sometimes, the photographers work is to see the gaps and absences rather than the stuff cluttering the langscape. The sticky feeling of nothing.

Ethics and the stitching of skin

Metaphors come to us, they seethe in the bubbling miasma of the biosphere lying in wait for an unlikely candidate for infection. Like Burroughs' Virus 23 that carries language and physically changes the body it infects to give it the ability to use a language; sometimes it hurts a bit.

This was the packaging from a bit of suturing I had done on my knee in Cuba a few years back. I fished it out of the garbage pail in the emergency room at the Varadero hospital I got stitched up in. I remain amazed at the brand name of the suture thread; ethicon. It has a somewhat Sci-Fi feel to it. The images brought to mind when thinking of a gash being closed up with "ethicon" are multiple and political, yet another item in the long list of landguage art-i-facts.

4-0 Prolene, polypropalene suture, 13 stitches in my right knee

Using your flipper (cont.)

Large and small counters and prominently visible opposable thumbs.

Mouvances

Since moving to Newfoundland and Labrador, the idea of slow travel has been buzzing around my head like the floor plan of some great novel. Usually opting for the more "agonizing" of modes like the bus and the ferry to move across larger distances, it is often striking how much time is given to reflection. One is not constantly bustled about from one checkpoint to the next, from the security clearance to the gate and so on.

There are beautiful passages on speed and movement in Alessandro Baricco's, "Cette Histoire-Là". But a few passages form a recent read are creeping into the thinking pattern. More about destinations that speed, but at the same time needing a certain lingering of motion to process.

"S'il s'en va, au demeurant, ce n'est nullement qu'il n'a pas été séduit par ce qu'il quitte; au contraire, c'est qu'il a tant aimé ce qu'il ient de connaître qu'il aspire à des contrées qui soient cela avec encore plus de rigueur, plus de consistance, plus de force: des contrées dont le pays des lacs ne serait en somme qu'un avant-goût édulcoré, une île ou un massif annonciateurs, un missus dominicus, un modèle réduit. Il aspire è l'original." R. Camus, Loin, p.289

Using your flipper

The game may be played for stakes, if desired.

I was in New York a while back. I found this envelope on the sidewalk and am not too sure what I want to make of it. I have had several meaningful conversations with people who choose to live on the street (the choice of the word choice is deliberate) and they seem to feel a freedom I cannot quite get to. I live in the academic bubble, I can do whatever I want to, provided I provide a sufficent amount of anthropomorphological data, to get to the answers I want to get to. But providing sufficient substanciation is a slippery slope. I can use the language needed but I cannot, in any terms, prove that I will obtain any result whatsoever.

Monter - Traverser (la surface)

Au retour du delà on passe par ici. Si jamais il y avait une raison pour la faculté de se souvenir.

Back from Three Bear Mountain

Territoriality and paint