Saturday, 30 May 2009
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
I calculated as accurately as I could the time I spent worrying in a week, and the time I spent making tea in a week. I worried for 19 hours and 12 minutes, and I made tea for 34 minutes and 26 seconds. I was shocked at how much time I spent worrying, and quite surprised that a week's worth of tea making is equivalent to half an hour. I don't want to make this project into something very personal and deep, I want to keep it light hearted. I am trying to think of things I could do for 19 hours solidly. Here's a list:
running......? (I don't think I'm healthy enough for that)
Ah the list is long. I have more of a brain storm in my sketchbook. Unfortunately I won't be able to complete my 19 hour stint until next week, due to important family commitments, getting back to manchester and taking a driving theory test. I will spend that time coming up with something to do for 19 hours, and experimenting with things to do for 34 minutes.
Friday, 3 April 2009
Artists often talk about changing a space or an atmosphere with an object, I feel that I can change this counter-productive use of time, make it purposeful. I decided I am going to clock-watch obsessively for a week (until Friday morning), and calculate the amount of time I have spent worrying, and then, no matter how long, I will occupy myself with something "other", to change, displace, the way I use my time. I intend to occupy myself with this "other" activity over a continuous period of time, as I think that, no matter how I document this experiment of sorts, my activity/performance/appearance will show the time progressing.
I believe that, in 'timing' my worrying, I will alter not only the present - turning a fault into an asset, counter-productive time into time well spent - but I will also alter the way I experience time within my experiment.
I am also keeping a record of how much time I spend eating and making cups of tea. Partly for comparison's sake, and partly out of interest. I may well do similar experiments, but I think the main thing is to do with worrying.
I have been continuing with the idea of distance in terms of cups of tea. I have decided to try going up, as well as across. I feel that thinking about direction in a less linear way ties in with the idea of changing time, of thinking about sound as art. I will take my friends to the Heath on a sunny day, we will picnic and climb trees and it will be like something out of a famous five novel.
Saturday, 28 March 2009
I was thinking about this when I decided to see how far I could get from my house, in the space of time it takes to make a cup of tea. I got out a map to see where I could go, only to realise that North Finchley looks more complicated from an aerial perspective than it seems to me at ground level. I then remembered the experience I'd had when I was young, and thought it would be interesting/fun, to create routes I could try using the roll of a dice. An odd number meant left, an even number meant right. I marked out my routes on photocopied maps, and set out, having decided to film my feet as I walked. This was more of an experiment than anything else, I needed to see how far I could get in a fairly short space of time (not as far as I'd hoped). I started to think about how much further I could get if I ran, or cycled. I'm going to try more walking and cycling tomorrow, and running when I get my trainers back.
I filmed my feet as I walked, and have tried playing the film along with the sound of making a cup of tea. It's strange how as the sound and the film don't match up, it was almost as if I had to concentrate on one or the other, as if they were totally separate fundamentally, as well as in the sense of a piece of work. I also noticed all the different types of pavement there are around where I live. I have decided to go and photograph the different pavements on one of the walks I did today, and then see what I can do with them when I have them developed. At the moment I think it could be quite interesting to categorise them in terms of distance and time.
I think the idea of the narrative, or my idea of the narrative, is something that is current and present in all of the work I produce, as it is a strong interest of mine, a subject to which I repeatedly return. However, as I continue with this project, the idea of time seems to be my overriding interest, although of course that interest could indeed morph into something else over the weeks.
Monday, 23 March 2009
Sunday, 22 March 2009
Although the temporal element of my work has very much remained in the aural realms of the project, I do intend to mix and link the physical, narrative side, with the intangible temporal side. I feel using, in some cases, the narrative within the sound pieces I am creating creates this link, however I still want to experiment with expressing passing time in static images. I have tried moving images, books, writing, across a photocopier whilst it copies the images. I liked the images which resulted. They are indicative of the passing of time within a certain temporal boundary. Bearing in mind the subject matter - books, written prose - they are also relevant to the narrational side of my project, implying the passing of time intrinsically linked with the idea of story-telling. There is also a certain element of the images, basic though they are, which encompasses my primary ideas for my project; an unfamiliar, indecipherable narrative contained within a physical (static image) and temporal (the obvious movement of the original image) spaces.
I cut out squares of the images and hung them from my ceiling using cotton. I photographed them in motion, and will attempt to photograph them with someone (me?) entangled within them.
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Today I have been thinking about intervals in time - how many times can I turn the page of a book in the space of time it takes me to write a sentence on a typewriter? Can I measure the world in terms of the time it takes me to make a cup of tea? I have been experimenting with these sounds, comparing them, in particular concentrating on rhythm. I feel that these ideas will lead me to produce more visual work, particularly as I tackle the problem of how to document them in my sketchbook.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
I am "writing" one long sentence in white string. I like the malleable yet structured quality to it, and feel that if there was enough it could become almost like cobwebs, intensifying the atmosphere of the space it inhabits as a result of it's delicate nature.
Instead of experimenting with video, as I had originally planned, I have chosen to use sound as a way to give the installation some grounding in a temporal sense. Rather than making it static and indefinite, I can use repetition of sound to give it structure in relation to time.
I have also decided to experiment with the concept of time using sound. I want to explore the idea of different measurements of time, as I feel that time is not fixed, it is dependent on sociology, context, psychology, money etc. etc. to all intents and purposes, time is relative. I want to experiment with unusual measurements of time - the time it takes to read a page of a book, the time it takes to type a sentence on a typewriter.
I have already done one "sound piece", as a starting point. I was experimenting with the music program I have and ways to create a tense and uneasy atmosphere using noise. Unfortunately I don't know how to upload it to my blog.
I feel I should also make it clear that I think, particularly in terms of the assessment, that using both video and sound could create confusion, as both media would conflict.
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
I want to look at story-telling, and the concept of a book. I am interested in the limitations of a book, both physical and temporal. It is interesting to think of a book in terms of occupying space and time, rather than being restricted by a cover, in the traditional sense. I am interested in process-based practise, the physicality of creating something, however fleeting the creation, or story, may be.
On my foundation course, I wrote secrets into condensation on bus windows and photographed them. At the time, I didn't take the idea any further, but I think filming the short life-span of such a story would be very interesting.
I don't think I am "done" with the eggs yet though, although possibly the idea of mass production, repetition etc. is a little tired. I want to finish my ceramic eggs though, to give that aspect of my work some sort of finality. However, the protection/restriction aspect of eggshells which I have been thinking about still interests me.
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
The mental block seems to be lifting.......
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Whilst I was in the Special Collections a week or so ago, I started to think about books, and the physicality of a book, and in particular the concept of a book cover. I started to question the purpose, or role, of a book cover: is it to keep the story in or to keep the rest of the world out. Is it a protective barrier, something secretive? I started to think about making 'books' that aren't confined by the traditional book cover, and pushing the boundaries of what it is for something to be a book. I also liked the idea of 'reversing' a 'book' - i.e. writing a narrative on the outsides of objects or things which are seen as protective, for example, envelopes or eggshells.
I have written on the outside of an egg shell which was already broken. I was writing about protection, following the theme of book covers and egg shells. I am very protective of my sister, so I was using the way I feel if she's upset or hurt as some sort of inspiration. I think that, had I written on an uncracked egg and then cracked it, it would have been more poignant; physically breaking the egg would be symbolic of the impossibility of complete protection. I feel that the whole project is sort of veering towards birth and the mother-child relationship, which is not good as I have no children and have never experienced birth, and am thus unable to comment on the subject with any great authority.
I also want to print letters on the outsides of envelopes.
The science project idea seems to have reached a dead end, as what I want to do is possible, but would take too long. I am disappointed about this but I don't know what else I can do. The idea that Joanna Verran had come up with was photographing agar sheets with bacteria on them, I am always conscious of aesthetics within my work, and, to the naked eye, bacteria growing on an agar sheet does not look pretty. I wanted to photograph the changes through a microscope, as I felt the series of images would be visually more satisfying and cohesive, but as it isn't possible within a day (which surprises me, although I don't know much about the subject) then I feel I will have to give up for now and go back to the idea if I have a brainwave of any sort.
Saturday, 24 January 2009
I worked at home throughout the middle of the week, melting inky ice cubes on to paper. On cartridge paper, the result (as I have been using pinky-red ink) looks brutal. I like them though, as each one is different and, in their own way, shocking. I tried doing one on some handmade paper I brought back from Thailand with me, and the way the ink has been absorbed, rather than settling, makes the image much less gory, as it is more pink than red. It reminds me of some sort of cell. I particularly like that each inky, egg shaped ice cube has created a different pattern, despite me using the same method each time. I am considering experimenting with photocopies of them, rather than the images themselves, as I think they could be easily ruined.
Friday, 16 January 2009
On Tuesday I went for my meeting with Joanna Verran. I found the whole experience a little intimidating, and I felt we were at crossed purposes; I wanted to know what was possible, she wanted to know what I wanted to do. However, I have a much better idea of where I should start my research.
I had been feeling a little confused as to what to do with my egg shells I have been meticulously collecting, but after I photographed them, I started to think about their differing shapes and volumes and how I could represent this visually. I decided to fill one half with ink and water and freeze it, and then leave the ice cube on a piece of paper to melt - the theory being that each similar object - the egg half - would produce it's own inky pattern. A series of unique images coming from very similar objects.
Tuesday, 6 January 2009
I went to see the Turner prize exhibition, which was a huge disappointment; I found it pretentious, irrelevant and inaccessible. I also saw the GSK Contemporaries, Part II, at the Royal Academy, which was visually exciting and very interesting to me, particularly the William Burroughs exhibition within it.