Rather quiet these days when I'm on the dais speaking to more than one. In that twisting sentence, I mean to say that I don't want to write here. I don't know how to shoe-horn the fat, short generalizations I am working with into eloquent and elegant words at all.
I am drawing out my decisions for days to see if they die from hunger if not fed or put to bed the second they are noticed. Worrying that I am hesitant, wondering about the actions that are similar to hesitancy while not making spontaneity into a paper tiger to be slain. I am trying not to balance abundance with lack or chance with intention. Trying not to carefully democratize every action with another.
Not working in order to balance the books.
I've named the show at The Bilton Centre For Contemporary Art: The Brawl Of The Beast
From Djuna Barnes' Book, Nightwood:
"The brawl of the beast makes a path for the beast"
A fitting title for a show opening on my 30th birthday. i think it will be the last titled this way, I am tiring a bit of the clever, self-referencing in-joke titles. Nothing else in mind, just feel like getting quiet like when you want to hear if there really is a rat in your house but don't want to get up and scare it off. Of course you have no clue what you'll do if you hear it, or whether you want to hear it.
PS. Please check out my grow-a-saurus paintings on The Bilton Centre site, so good.