Sunday, April 8, 2012

"Call and Response: Bio Degradable"



"Resentment is the most precious flower
of poverty. Yeah."

Carson McCullers, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter" (1940)

I don't know if this ever happens to you. It happens to me. This is what happens: I begin something and it takes on a life and complexion of its own. That's good. But then as if the project were some conceptual chigger bite, I begin to worry it. Scratch at it. Scratching turns into embellishment. Stop me if this is new to you and I'll make every effort to
add details.Before I am aware, a concept that may have been sublime and elegant as
birthed, becomes bloated and ungainly.
That's when (if I am paying any attention at all), I stop. I sweep up. I evoke repairs.
I let the air out of the balloon.
I risk making mistakes. I
walk away from the preciousness of anticipation and preconceived desire.
I wear an aluminum foil hat and avail myself to the

unknown.
That is what I am going through right now. In eliminating the barriers that are the corral separating out the herd of who I am from the herd of what I do, I have constructed some free-ranging Golem. I have fashioned a simulacrum of my self. The hands molding the image are mine. The clay is the stuff of my inheritance, held together by the spit of my essential self.
You are there.
And
we are connected at the intersection of effort and dream. Whirled without end.
Amen/Yeah.


“He saw that all the struggles of life were incessant, laborious, painful, that nothing was done quickly, without labor, that it had to undergo a thousand fondlings, revisings, moldings, addings, removings, graftings, tearings, correctings, smoothings, rebuildings, reconsiderings, nailings, tackings, chippings, hammerings, hoistings, connectings—all the poor fumbling uncertain incompletions of human endeavor. they went on forever and were forever incomplete, far from perfect, refined, or smooth, full of terrible memories of failure and fears of failure, yet, in the way of things, somehow noble, complete, and shining in the end…”
Jack Kerouac: The Town and the City, (1950)

While comprehending both the conveniences and pitfalls of a Cause and Effect existence, here at empathinc. we prefer to live in a Call and Response Universe. This series is an exploration of that space.



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