Yea, Yea Whatever

Ok so this is a little late, I forgot to blog before the Student Employment in the Arts conference, because I was just so damned jazzed for it. I also felt a little stressed out after driving back home in swarming blizzard with a bunch of window wipers that just sucked. Actually I think this makes a nice transition into what I want to talk about with my art. I think its possible that by forcing myself to play snake so frequently I have begun to develop super human qualities of hand eye coordination, thus allowing me to steer clear of snowy ditches and exit ramps. Ok, so this is mostly false, but I do feel as though I have grown (backwards?) as a person because of snake--take it how you will. Anyways, Muhatma Candy is near completion, it has taken me a lot of time, I will also start to record some snake games today for the final video. And of course everything is in line for a very large pizza to be ordered tonight, and thus the backdrop of Malcom Chex will be created. I think my product ideas may have taken a bit of a sharp turn, but I can't really divulge without giving to much away. So alas I end this post--as hope to end this class--in somewhat ambiguous fashion, have a great Sunday everybody.

The Internet.... is great!!

This week I read a few stories about... the internet? Well, maybe, probably, I mean really it's tough to say. One story by Jorge Borges (which by the way is quite a name, but then consider the full name, Jorge Francisco Isidoro Luis Borges Acevedo) was about a forking garden of sorts and the other by Bill Viola was about a porcupine and a car. When you read The Garden of Forking Paths it seems very obvious that Borges is indeed alluding to the internet, but alas he wrote it before 1950, how can this be? Alas perhaps the thing we know as the 'internet' is actually a metaphor for something else that has all ready existed, but what then? Perhaps this garden refers to 'knowledge', or the infinite history that both precedes and proceeds us. Or maybe Borges is simply referring to the perplexing infinite nature of our universe? Or--and this is my favorite theory--Borges was the smartest man ever and invented time travel, traveled forward in time, observed the internet first hand, came back to 1944 and explained it in the most poetic yet understandable way possible. I mean seriously he's talking about the internet, crazy. Like Borges, I too have experienced the internet, and continue to experience it on a very regular (regimented?) basis. My current project of combining both my food portraits, obsession of snake, and likeness to Magic Johnson, is heavily reliant on the internet. But how you ask? Well for starters I often use the internet before making my Magic Johnson PowerPoint presentations. I also use the internet to get my images for my food portraits, but most importantly I use the internet as a platform for snake playing. Now you say "oh, well you could just play snake on your computer or cell phone." But I respond as such: first of all cell phone snake sucks, lets not even go there, second of all I need to play snake online so I can compete against everyone else in the world playing snake thus proving my worthiness as both snake player and college student. So the internet is great! For now, but it may only be a matter of time before the freedom we now enjoy becomes a.) extremely regulated, or b.) the power that will eventually enslave all humans. Certainly we seem to be playing Russian roulette here with our abuse of technology, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't living it up. Considering the internet is as fast, virtually cost efficient, and vastly encompassing as it is, it almost seems to good to be true. So I say get it while it's hot, before something implodes.

Ray J. and Mary J: My way or the MJ

Compared to the recent artist I've covered here, Ray Johnson's work seemed to have a particularly appealing visual aspect to it. I think his work was very much conceptual, but it was also meticulous and exciting in the visual sense--and this is a bit of relief. I think my final project idea is also somewhat similar to Johnson, in that I am in part the piece (more specifically my snake playing, I guess it's tough measure how much consciousness I actually retain during these sessions though--this is enough on this for now), I do not plan on committing suicide, however, but the ending might ultimately be similarly hopeless. (By the way I have officially began construction on Mahatma Candy, hopefully it will soon be finished).

In terms of Mary Jane Jacobs, I found her readings, lecture, Q and A, to be somewhat engaging, but at times a little to fast and reference-filled to follow. In general I really don't see my art in the way I think she was trying to accomplish it in. I think that other people could probably do a better job helping with the community than my artwork could. I think it would really be compromising some part of myself, though I'm not entirely sure what. The idea of working with art to help the community, in one way is like ethanol; because we need of one thing (oil/community projects) more than the other (corn/art), and we have a surplus of the other thing (corn/art), does not necessarily mean converting corn/art into fuel/community projects is truly efficient. I also feel that these projects do not necessarily break down the barriers of the 'white cube', but rather disguise them and make them more propagandistic; most of these projects are selected by those in the curatorial fields (like Mary Jane Jacobs) are often similar to everything else shown in museums, only now they are forced upon the public as the standard of 'decent' and/or successful art. In all honesty I think what Mary Jane Jacobs does seems very successful and well though out, I don't think I would ever be able to do it (I don't think I can plan that well), and I don't know if it is really breaking down that many barriers.

Kaprow/Fluxus and 60's no mistake: Happen this

In reading about Kaprow and Fluxus recently I came upon two fairly simple conclusions. The first and more obvious conclusion, is that these art movements in the late 50's and early 60's very much correspond with the increasingly rabid drug use during these time periods, particularly LSD and other hallucinogens similar to it. Now don't get me wrong, I don't actually know if these artist took drugs as much as practically everyone else in America did, I am just taking a wild guess that, in my opinion, ties up some otherwise loose ends. When people take drugs like acid, and even to a lesser extent marijuana, the world becomes a more complex place. Things seemingly meaningless become filled with content and perplexing purpose. Anything becomes a possibility, thus impulsive actions become increasingly likely. The world seems unfathomably connected, and finally, as Baba Ram Dass can tell you, the moment becomes extremely important (Be Here Now anyone). To me, these ideas seem remarkably similar to those of Fluxus and the Happenings movements that focus on the moment, performance art, finding/creating beauty (or art or whatever) in things that usually aren't considered such, and pushing the edge of possibility/creativity. It's no coincidence that Van Gogh was painting such eerie images while guzzling absinthe at the local cafe, and who knows what he (and other artists) would came up with if he was taking acid like gumdrops, but I would wager that it would be pretty 'out-there.' It seems like drugs are always the white elephant in the room whenever these movements are discussed in classes; everyone knows it's there but no one wants to acknowledge it.

The second thing that stood out to me about Fluxus and Happenings, was that it seemed like what they were trying to accomplish was essentially what sports are. Kaprow described happenings as "A game, an adventure, a number of activities engaged in by participants for the sake of playing;" that right there sounds like halftime speech from an extremely bland football coach. Furthermore, through there books, Fluxus gives directions for, essentially, 'happenings,' or loose sets of guidelines that involve participants in an act of 'art.' Once again most sports seem to be extremely complex (and admittedly more regimented) versions of these directions. Sports are a 'happening,' there is no final product (aside from a score or pictures and videos, but is that any different from tittles, and photos of in art?) and no one can accurately predict the results (though we may try). Most sports are a result of interaction between a set of players (performers) and fans (viewers); this interaction is intensified most in Basketball, where celebrities line the court literally inches away from the players in the game. Fan interaction in sports can be directly tied to the event they're attending in away that spectators in galleries could not accomplish (before these movements of course). Often times fans are credited with 'helping out the home team' in close games by providing an advantage with their provocative cheers and extremely loud noise (this can become in itself an art, as some student sections provide a cheat sheet on every seat of sore subjects to berate opposing players with). Although technically illegal and frowned upon by mainstream media, fans often run onto the field (some naked) at random times causing momentary confusion and excitement by both crowd and players. In multiple occasions fans and players have engaged in fist fights on and off the court. Essentially sports are happenings that people take way more seriously, which is a significant difference, admittedly. But sports, like happenings, are a spectrum for infinite possibilities and really only false or perceived conclusions. Sports seemingly have a more intended and direct goal, but this goal, is also perceived, and not necessarily accurate, for the real goal of sports may simply be to 'play for the love of the game' or the most used sports cliche ever. a So maybe if Kaprow ever wanted to start taking his happenings seriously he should have picked up a basketball, but maybe that was the point, who knows? Ok I know that was pretty long, but I really had to get some stuff off my chest.