Tuesday morning

Today feels a bit random.  I have this in lock down problem in that I feel like I should make some art but the kind of art I could make would be out of context.  It would be a performance to prove a point but I don't know what the point would be.

The art I have been thinking of making was an assemblage of bits and bods from the project with Abi making a sort of sculpture and projecting onto it referencing russian constructivism. The idea was to try and make something physical, a sculpture  and see what would come out of it - stuff comes from stuff - an experiment in material traces. When it was something that I couldn't find the time to get around to it presented a goal I secretly believed I was frustrated in not been able to realise.  It was some sort of attempt to redistribute the sensible - to make this action part of my research, but it was not a very coherant thing.

The problem is in the current context the idea does not have enougth weight to drive itself forward.  It's a sad truth.  It's also that as an idea it has a massive potential to be miss read - there seems little place for irony in my current world and my minor art that hangs from a sleder thread cannot carry the weight of it.

I think it would be better to do something completely different but that different thing also eludes me.

Today I applied to be part of the Yorkshire sculpture network.  I wrote this blog. I did all the final evaluation for my arts council project. This felt like a wet fart at the moment of pressing send no real bronx cheer.   If the art making is entangled with the research then it cannot sit outside of it to the extent where everyone sees it as separate.  I wonder if this is the reason I can't commit to workshop time, a fear of discovering myself adrift on the outside of everything.

When I walked down the canal yesterday I could hear the foundaries and distant noise of machinery and people at work, muffled radio stations drifting from ventilation pipes.  All the time the birds singing and the water offering a very special still silence to the mix.  I thought about recording it on my reel-to-real tape.  This is the redistribution of the sensible the lock down has brought us but as I try and grasp a bit of it it suddenly becomes stupid.  I feel like a reverse Midas turning the gold of art thoughts to the reality of the world. Some days we lose our way.

Perhaps I need to go for a long walk and then cook tea- activities that do not need irony or blogs to justify them will see us through.