You found yourself with a white sheet; you shaped it into a chair; you tried to un-chair it, but found whiteness - the absence of color - gave way to transparency - the indifference of color.
And that's how it happened.
Way cool sequence. And interesting and beyond; it's always interesting when the artist and the subject are the same.
I don't know on what level it makes sense, but it does; as in, I feel like these pictures couldn't go in any other order. I don't know on what level it's archetypal, but it is; as in, I feel like this is everyday all at once, (but maybe because my first memory is of red).
Red Wall, Midnight what will the red wall unfurl and/or swallow next
I like how the subject's back is to the viewer, as if to say "I've left the past behind me," or perhaps, "I turn my back to the world," yet the mirror provides a window on all those things left behind/turned from. As if there is ambiguity of intent or feelings.
(I'm looking at the images as art, not as Fresca lying on the floor with her buttocks wrapped in plastic film, when maybe there is no more to this than that. Whatever the artist's intentions, this is a fine series of thought-provoking images.)
Hi, Crow! Of course you are right to see "more" in these images ---it's never the case that "there is no more to this than that." Not in my world, anyway.
That's the first thing I recognized, anyway. The red of my dress was the same as the red of the car-seat lining; I reached out and touched red! and that's the first mem'ry.
(Not assuring in ST; you know what happens to red-shirts!; which is why I stick with the Captain.)
I imagine if we could reach back far enough, everyone's first memory would be reddish or blackish or some soup of both. (The last, then - - greenish and whiteish?)
MRGRT: Your comment reminds me of going to hear a performance once that started in total darkness to the thump-thump, thump-thump of a drum.
The drummer--I forget her name-- came out and said this was the first noise we would have heard. It wasn't a drum, it was a recording of the heartbeat, as we would have heard it from inside our mother's body. Something very dark red in that memory, for me.
DANIA: I was dismayed at first by the wall but then came to love it---it's what inspired these photos, since I didn't think photos of the wall itself would be interesting. : )
Hey, Lill-- Glad you like the series. The plastic wrap is 3M window film, which I'd been using as a drop cloth when I painted the wall. So I guess it is kind of a Minnesota in-joke-- (Maura recognized ir right away and thought it was funny)-- but honestly, I didn't plan out these photos, just grabbed what was to hand.
But maybe I should have taken Jim Carroll's advice? He said, "There ain't much time left, you're born out of this insane abyss and you're going to fall back into it, so while you're alive you might as well show your bare ass."
Nice mirror.
ReplyDeleteGOTCHA!
You found yourself with a white sheet;
you shaped it into a chair;
you tried to un-chair it, but found whiteness - the absence of color - gave way to transparency - the indifference of color.
And that's how it happened.
Way cool sequence. And interesting and beyond; it's always interesting when the artist and the subject are the same.
I don't know on what level it makes sense, but it does; as in, I feel like these pictures couldn't go in any other order.
I don't know on what level it's archetypal, but it is; as in, I feel like this is everyday all at once, (but maybe because my first memory is of red).
Red Wall, Midnight
what will the red wall unfurl and/or swallow next
Your first memory was of red?
ReplyDeleteOkay, now this is getting very interesting.
ReplyDeleteI like how the subject's back is to the viewer, as if to say "I've left the past behind me," or perhaps, "I turn my back to the world," yet the mirror provides a window on all those things left behind/turned from. As if there is ambiguity of intent or feelings.
(I'm looking at the images as art, not as Fresca lying on the floor with her buttocks wrapped in plastic film, when maybe there is no more to this than that. Whatever the artist's intentions, this is a fine series of thought-provoking images.)
Hi, Crow!
ReplyDeleteOf course you are right to see "more" in these images ---it's never the case that "there is no more to this than that."
Not in my world, anyway.
odalisque!
ReplyDeleteThat's the first thing I recognized, anyway. The red of my dress was the same as the red of the car-seat lining; I reached out and touched red! and that's the first mem'ry.
ReplyDelete(Not assuring in ST; you know what happens to red-shirts!; which is why I stick with the Captain.)
I imagine if we could reach back far enough, everyone's first memory would be reddish or blackish or some soup of both.
(The last, then - - greenish and whiteish?)
MOMO: Yes.
ReplyDeleteMRGRT: Your comment reminds me of going to hear a performance once that started in total darkness to the thump-thump, thump-thump of a drum.
The drummer--I forget her name-- came out and said this was the first noise we would have heard.
It wasn't a drum, it was a recording of the heartbeat, as we would have heard it from inside our mother's body.
Something very dark red in that memory, for me.
You are gutsy! The red over the green turned out really well.
ReplyDeleteDANIA: I was dismayed at first by the wall but then came to love it---it's what inspired these photos, since I didn't think photos of the wall itself would be interesting. : )
ReplyDeleteI've gotten gutsier with age.
What's to lose?
Hey, Lill--
ReplyDeleteGlad you like the series.
The plastic wrap is 3M window film, which I'd been using as a drop cloth when I painted the wall.
So I guess it is kind of a Minnesota in-joke--
(Maura recognized ir right away and thought it was funny)--
but honestly, I didn't plan out these photos, just grabbed what was to hand.
But maybe I should have taken Jim Carroll's advice?
He said,
"There ain't much time left, you're born out of this insane abyss and you're going to fall back into it, so while you're alive you might as well show your bare ass."
LOL! I agree with him!
ReplyDeleteOK, I dare you: you go first!
ReplyDeleteOn Facebook.