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| I made this with my lung-hands |
I like to think of my conceptualized installations as approximate inventories of fragmentary consciousness (via meaninglessness), ie, found objects, photographs other people took, paintings I don't understand, photographs I would have taken if I was there at the time, and consumerist refuse. They are improvisational in as much as the constructed vis a vis the deconstructed, the ready-made and the never-should-have-been-made align, come together, regress, push and pull, in and out, just like that, not so hard though, sorry I'm just kind of tired I guess, can we try again later. My parameters are schematizations, investing in the viewer a sense of movement through texturized, space, historicizing within that space a disgusting townie who smokes too much on his dirty back porch, for example. Alientation and aesthetics, minimalism and maximalism together at once. It's a sort of poetry of seduction of the unreal, a commentary on consumerism, but also a pile of shit.
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9 comments:
That is pretty disgusting dude.
I know :/ where else do people put cigarettes though?
Though provoking pic. Makes me think of all the reasons that our capitalistic society leads to the social alienation of individuals (and subsequent comforting addictions that kill us). Which made me feel depressed and alienated. You would make Marx proud.
I was just going to say the exact same thing.
Speaking of poetry of the seduction of the unreal, a commentary on consumerism, and also a pile of shit (literally). http://gawker.com/5887330/kreayshawn-shits-in-front-of-reporter-shit+talks-lana-del-rey
Taking the profound back to meaningless through shit lol
My art has been commended as being strongly vaginal which bothers some men.
Rando question: Do you get confused looks when you ask for Camel Lights now that they're officially called Camel Blues? It makes me wanna go old man on the cashier and give him a lecture about how they'll always be Came Lights goddamnit!
Yeah, whenever I have to order them from, like, a young kid at the supermarket, and they fuck it up. Most of the time my bodega boys know what's good though.
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