‘Unmeasuredinstances’ actually comes from a title I gave to my artwork, taken as a whole, many years ago. What follows are from journals written at that time:
((un(measure(d(i)n)stances))
The off-centered (i) nestled between parenthesis, like some seed-tight bud bound within skin, the parenthesis rippling out, patterns of interference, the din of our selves.
To measure, to take up a stance, a fixed position or point of reference, is to place the world at a distance, to untangle oneself from all that blinds (and binds) by its closeness and silences by its mystery.
And so the task is to undo what has been done – to un measure that which keeps apart and sets asunder. To replace the emptiness that surrounds us with an ever renewed becoming. To flow and so to fill, or feel, the spaces between you and i. To see the world as writ in water, and no longer carved in unmoving stone.
To experience space and time without measuring, without mapping it out onto a system – to undo all that, to un-measure the distances and instances which meaning keeps apart. To break down our stances, our fixed positions – to float, unanchored, with nothing to tie us down. To set sail – to let our wonderings become our wanderings. To become as in the beginning, nomads – strangers within a strange land, sojourners tracing for the first time the unmapped shorelines of our heart’s content, our true desires: to journey out, explorers in search of our new amor-ica – our new found land of love.
These are poems I have written as comments on various YouTube videos:
————————————
no point in seeing
the dancer as separate from the dance
all that is alive moves and in moving
leaves us nothing but a glance
of beauty
————————————
the pink tulips
slightly sway their heads
your face sparkles
I hit replay and watch these moments
endlessly unfold into themselves
its a gorgeous day
————————————
I noticed the arabesque script of barbed wire
closing around the clouds it caught midair,
like a grape held tight between clenched teeth.
And how the shoes were left hanging there
tethered to the sky,
while red bricked walls rose up
their windowed eyes the sole and silent witnesses,
to the voices tattooed upon their skin.
It said “create the world you wish to see”
It said the clouds would soon pass by.
————————————
I feel such sadness seeing
the sharp and broken shards of shadow
touching the softness of your soul
smoky silky sexy jazz beat something else all together as I sit entranced and wondering how can anyone seriously keep talkin about nothin in no particular order but make it flow smooth and jagged like and have me hypnotized five inches from the screen and thinkin mosquito screen camera kick bong bash hippie patrty and fiddlejamie spot on saying pure sex and me still trackin while your voice stabbing the air in sharp staccato beats of done and done
The recent work in this show evolved in response to the wooded landscapes that lie between Gilbertsville and Columbus, NY. These are spaces I travel through and live in daily, places where the horizons of hills and valley-views dart in and out between the thick lattice of branch and leaf, like single threads drawn through a loom. And in the intervals and interstices jagged blue shots of sky hang like grace notes in the air. And in time these thickets and groves and forested glens became endless textures of complexity – woven from lines and layers, dots and dashes, a textile forever recreating itself in new patterns and energies. My paintings are meant to capture some of that play and puzzelment of remembered experience. They are mementos in the broadest sense of that term.