Double scrolling... Instagram, fast. Chinese, slow. A curiosity cabinet on speed, optical reflections, speed-less. A Norman Bryson gaze, snapshot aesthetic glances, and salon style, surrealist chances. A glitchy exquisite corpse, par excellence. Their motives were pure, honest, unadulterated.
A tantalizing ecology of clues. Days of a future past, past futures, and futures passing in the night. A thickened horizon, with no horizons. Perhaps. A flattish, deep wunderkammer. Pockets emptied, all hands to the pump. Alice and friends, delighted. John Cage, made proud, real proud. Yellow square paper whispers. They came, went, and came back again. Maybe. A requiem for the masses, mass consumption, lots and lots and lots, amassed. A Borgesian celestial emporium of benevolent knowledge, on the trot.
Folds, puckers, cuts and creases. A mesmerizing assembly that never ceases. A dazzling choreography of file weights, a glossary of values, of visual teases, and of gestures registered. Yves Klein, not quite, blue.
Where to begin, when to stop. Stops and starts, double started, double stopped. Combinatory algorithms with no end in sight. The wall got longer. No brake tapping here. Stretch, stretching, stttrrretttccchhheddd. Alliterative rhythms, idiosyncratic soliloquies, and a panoply of visual choruses. A hoarder’s dream, an investigator’s nightmare. A taxonomy of all taxonomies, Pieter Breughel’s Tower of Babel, lurking nearby. What’s next?
start: sticky, straddled, stranded… stealthy, stupefying, stereophonic. stuff… staged, striated, stockpiled… streetwalking. huh? staggered stanzas, stimulating strangeness… stitched, strewn, stupendous… a stunningly strident staccato… amen.
A diagram for many diagrams. A quilted codex on the run. A metaphorical prayer wall, for many gods, maybe gods, and no gods. Diptychs, triptychs, quadriptychs, pentaptychs, all kinds of ticks. a pair a socks… paranormal, paradoxical, parametric, parallel, paraphrased. At least. parabolic parasols, paramount. pear shaped parakeets, all.
Measure can be an evasive thing. Apparently, the fragmentary evidence was inconclusive. Figured abstractions and abstracted figures, appeared and disappeared, in the blink of an eye. Sometimes they teased one another in an operatic smear, with taxonomic precision. On occasion, they simply flitted about, without a care in the world. All colliding in a choreography of pure visual ecstasy. What they were up to was at times hard to tell, apparently something.
Once, we turned our heads away. And they were gone…
parasail, para-trooped, parachutes, paranoia, and on and on and on
stringiness, storytelling, (de)stabilizing, stucco, stench, staring…