What I am working on.

So now I have my Limerick written for my final sculpture I need to work out how I will present it. The sculpture is to illustrate the limerick so the limerick needs to stand out on its own as much as the sculpture. I have been playing with fonts today as I am ill in bed with a chest infection and horrible reactions to anti biotics so I am not planning on thinking too hard...

Reading Room.

"Shannon Ebner and Dexter Sinister: reading room
Ebner and Dexter Sinister will work in collaboration to create a reading room. Working as a live-talking room, a designated space for public reading to be seen and heard on a continual basis for the duration of the fair, readers will be solicited by invitation and from voluntary participants drawn from the general population of the fair. The readers’ voices recorded from inside the room will be broadcast in various locations both within the fair and around the world."

Frieze Art Fair Press Release.

Sounds, interesting - needs further research and reading !

Dash Snow.

Dash Snow - Polaroid.

So,

Friday I had to participate in a cross subject presentation showing, which I really enjoyed [even if it was a VERY long day]! I enjoyed being able to see how other people work and also explain what I am doing at the moment within my presentation.

Afterwards I received a message from my friend Emma who was at the presentation telling me that I did well and also gave me some artists to check out, & Dash Snow being one of them.

I liked this piece which as far as I can determine is called portrait [but I may be very wrong], he has done all sorts to this canvas and I really liked his use of mixed media [even if it is as crude as urine and semen] but what I was really interested in is the use of text as it relates to my work.

I may start a separate piece for an exhibition I want to have which may use mixed media in this style so I am keeping this as future reference rather than using in my university research at the moment.

Inspiration.

If but some vengeful god would call to me
From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing,
Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy,
That thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!"

Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die,
Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited;
Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I
Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.

But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain,
And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?
Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain,
And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan. . . .
These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown
Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.