Thursday, September 24, 2009

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

EMBANKMENT


The Unilever Series: Rachel Whiteread: EMBANKMENT
11 October 2005 – 1 May 2006
Tate Modern
"Although the inspiration for EMBANKMENT came from the single box she found in her mother's house, Whiteread selected a number of differently-shaped old boxes to construct the installation for the Turbine Hall. She filled them with plaster, peeled away the exteriors and was left with perfect casts, each recording and preserving all the bumps and indentations on the inside. They are ghosts of interior spaces or, if you like, positive impressions of negative spaces. Yet Whiteread wanted to retain their quality as containers, so she had them re-fabricated in a translucent polyethylene which reveals a sense of an interior. And rather than make precious objects of them, she constructed thousands."

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Animal Logic








Richard Barnes

Lenient, Yielding

Tilia Japonica

Under the lime tree
on the open field,
where we two had our bed,
you still can see
lovely both
broken flowers and grass.
On the edge of the woods in a vale,
tandaradei,
sweetly sang the nightingale.

Walther von der Vogelweide

But when the time comes for us both to die, I will turn into a Linden, and you an Oak, on a mountain, as far away as an arrow can shoot in one pull.

Systematic Landscapes








Maya Lin

Monday, September 14, 2009

Since We Last Loved



It was first, when you were a flower
You called out to me three times,
and three times I passed by looking only at the trees.
And then when you locked yourself to the bike rack,
waiting for me to be ready.
But two seasons passed, and you were a hungry heap.

I wish I knew what more to say.
But I think we have spent all of our candles now.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Monday, September 7, 2009

Shouldn't Oughta Promise



Cause it's just Pretend

Shouldn't Oughta Try



To be that way

Should Have Known Better


To this very day

Just to Prove That You Were Sorry


How did the time pass us so quickly? How is it that devotion cannot be matched?

Moth of the Vanity, Moth of the Living Room.


I am unsure of how you got lost in here. It seems you were cheated: by that charlatan, a dark tunnel suggesting refuge, where you hid your weary eyes. Why is it then, that light is your immutable captor? I have seen this confusing misfortune far too often. I hope that my gentle coercion was not too much for your delicate limbs, I hope that plastic cups and paper can be forgiven. I hope that one day, when Grey Drifts beguile me, you will return my favor.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Courting the Dark Means Counting Your Days Til the End.

All Without an Airlock






I am wandering through a snowy mountain, in search of a missing shoe. Mid-fall in a cavernous void of poorly executed attempts at being inconspicuous.