Index About Journal

august 4, 2019

a community in this world may not be readily found and it can be difficult to relate to most things or people. i feel pressured to believe i'm a kind of misanthrope, but i don't believe any artist truly is. to find beauty in spite of its absence is one method of coping with the detachment from others in order to survive the nothingness of it all, and if these little wavelengths make their way to another in a solitary moving sort of way, it's why i continue.

july 16, 2019

I wanna practice talking about the things i've been making / why I do things, which I've been bad at, partly from subconsciously thinking that not talking was somehow better, partly because of how quickly my thoughts grow, but also from internalizing over time that the only acceptable context for exposé is by way of some officiated / sanctioned / exclusive thing like an interview or q&a, which isn’t a great precedent if you're an artist outside of institution or commercial industry (same thing?), which have usually yielded both openly and quietly towards value systems and ideals that I’m not in line with.

I was also having a lot of difficulty talking about what I do because the work communicates what I want to myself, and I’ve wanted to believe that the work was also capable of doing that for the new viewer - to become what they want for themselves. the supplement of text has always felt like a surgical operation that left no room for "error", accidental, interpretational, discovery. I have been enjoying writing accompanying short poems which have felt more honest than explanatory prose, especially as my videos age.

but recently I’ve been thinking that text is merely optional and additional context that I make for my intentions, understanding that it may go a long way for allowing room for people to connect or relate emotionally, especially in the vacuum-context of the internet, which is by nature an endless collapse of passive and volatile archeology.

what I value about the web as a primary context for my work is that it does not need to function as a sort of ultimatum that I've previously accepted it as - that things can be an ever-changing work-process, and the elasticity and space needed to do so is provided. there is no default and i can work towards a personal alternative to the support net of an institution or physicality which is often obtained by paying into them - and i think the work and all the interactions surrounding it become contextualized through that transaction, forever.

I've been valuing my personal website more and more, using it as a safehaven. I can keep my thoughts online to share, but mostly tucked away on some unlinked html file untethered to any sort of tracking or numerical value assignment, maybe. It's been healing to be able to sound off all my idea-sketches / neuroticisms, see them exist in my own vacuum, and to be able to make them vanish completely if I felt I've moved past them, without feeling the usual awkwardness I felt in the panopticon.

it's strange though how if you're unable to maintain physical presence within certain spaces for one reason or another, the alternative is a relegation to an alienation realm of likes and retweets as dictated by each algorithm of respective platform. yet I've always kept my works online in full and value accessibility above all. I think it's important to question the perpetuation of artificial scarcity through this lens.

I think that my relationship to creating work has always been a symbiotic one. My perception of "productivity" and being "productive" felt unrelated to a lot of the discourse surrounding "health", and I’ve been realizing that I bear no responsibility to how my relationship to my work affects others in their interpretation of it. But in any case, I was definitely adversely affected by other people's relationships to their own work-as-capitalism-byproduct, and began to feel uncertain about things, such as the simple act of sharing my work with others. to share was to "promote,” and I think this was one of the main things that really fucked with me. (but yea what's the point of sharing about some screening that most people you know can't or won't go to anyway? I don't want to do that anymore.)

I make no money from my videos, and to be honest they don't really screen anywhere, and even if they did they can't be sold so I like to think of them as a true noncommodity. I’m unrepresented, I inhabit no space thus cannot displace - I make everything with the room and resources I have, during the after-hours of a full time job. It took me a while to parse all this in context to other "art practices" and realized not a lot matters in the end. If it's not an algorithm sculpting the format and aesthetic of your work it's the general guidelines and tastes of a curatorial or jury, which can often perpetuate a specific socioeconomic model for the arts in concurrence with the academic space - and more importantly a specificity of who the audience is "meant" to be.

this kind of thing always felt banal to me which is why I struggled so much to put things down into words but I was personally in a mental space for a while where it was incredibly difficult to sort these kinds of things out without feeling spiteful or confused or reactionary or maybe even just silly and becoming a kind of ghostly nonentity was the removal I needed in order to recalibrate my intentions, i think. and even if this writing is temporary it feels important for me to turn it over in my head every now and then, as a culmination of thoughts that have built up in the past several months.

may 10, 2019

navigating past and present clarity, ambiguity, towards a connection to another, withdrawal from connection to another

march 30, 2019

the shining rigid structure caved into its own assembled wreckage underneath and let light spill into the channel

december 26, 2018

thinking of a catscan of radiant warmth hidden in a corner quietly disappearing and reappearing