It’s Such an Ugly Word.
I’ve heard the story. “Web” and “log” got together and had a child. It’s still a clunky moniker. Even worse, anybody who does it is a “blogger.” “Parkinson’s” sounds bad, too. In 2019, nevertheless, I was stuck with the label at the age of forty-nine. A tremor has affected my dominant hand the most. I can only envy the kind of control that I took for granted once (see the straight lines comprising the junkyard above). As a guy for whom the practice of art is, increasingly, a challenge, a blog — whatever the name — may be a better creative outlet than no longer doing anything at all.
Creatively speaking, I haven’t decided where to go next. Understanding where I’ve already been, it seemed to me, would help. Pouring over my old work, I stumbled across a couple of photographs. Both were out of focus. Why had my camera refused to cooperate? In 1996, if you took a picture, you had to waitContinue reading “A Pivotal Piece”
The plastic sheets had sat in a wooden wine box in the closet for years. It wasn’t until I began to compile a record of my work that I dug them out. They were from the early nineties. To exhibit your art anywhere back then, you submitted your slides. What I needed were jpegs forContinue reading “Different Windows”
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