Dangus per dieną verkia

Už ką gi žemė barė dangų,

Kad jis dabar per dieną verkia.
(I cannot remember the author)

Meltdown:drawing grub all day.

I went into a meltdown yesterday, spending the whole day drawing.

This the my original grub in the pages of the book. A while ago I was photocopying in the library something about Pestival, when I came across this old photo, somebody had left in the magazine. So I photocopied it into the article. As a result, the meaning of the image and the article changed, extended, metamorphosed. The title: Fig.7. Grub in the pages of the book expanded: now it was referring to the underdressed woman, to the photo, to the idea of the pest and the book.
"Things become complicated in arts context" (John Baldessari) - yes, indeed.













Anyway, by the end of yesterday my grub underwent metamorphosis and here is a very extended vision of what a grub is and what it does.

Top picture: Grub in the book flies to the moon. He takes the GHOST along. For company. The GHOST hates the trip but stays polite in front of the press.
Bottom picture: This is not my grub. She came here by herself. To pause for a minute.

Grubs don't go chasing waterfalls. Especially not the ones from the books.

Not profound at all - but I had fun!

The face from the grave: vanishing pictures on the gravestones.

I have got a folder in my computer called THE GRAVES.

As I was recently looking into the whole idea of absence, I was becoming curious about those images on the gravestones. The vanishing or damaged images. Images that were meant to be there to preserve the face for the eternity.
When that picture is gone, one becomes really really dead, I thought. The name and the dates remain to describe what was once a person. Sounds like electoral register, doesn't it?

Tending the graves in 1970's

This is a great video I found on youtube. Tending the graves in 1970.

Alicia Martin: overflowing books

Alicia Martin does installations of cascading books. These are the more understated work : all that tension of crack splitting apart and busting open.

Selina Swayne: floating books

Recently I came across those floating books by Selina Swayne. I seem to have missed this Floating Exhibition on Serpentine in 2006.

Very evocative, aren't they? I would like to find out more about what is behind the installation.

Eatterbury stream of photos

I pressed Next Blog and I came across this treasure.

Totally amazing stream of photos. Not quite sure what it is. Very domestic and surreal: all those animals and fabrics and Isabella and Monica. Mountains follow a fish in the sink. Everybody has a straight face. Like a staged documentary. Mocumentary. But real.

Migration without words: porcelain aeroplanes

A while ago I said I was going to revive the whimsical and the dark work I used to do. Uh - so much of that! China does not come it black.

I would like to suspend these airplanes like migrating cranes. It is in development. Memories, identities that migrate with us. Memories that loose the verbal expression and become visual ghosts of themselves, that wear into nothingness with time.

"Language disguises thought". (TLP, 4.002)

After the flu: unplugged and rebooting

Christmas flu unplugged me from life for ten days and still counting. The whole period from Christmas Eve has merged into one misty blur of Lemsips, Sudafed sprays and lemon tea.

Now that I have started rebooting, I have started looking into work that needs doing and completing and becoming realistic with my possibilities of what can be done before the course is over. Well, and it is not looking pretty! In effect - I need to think about my final piece.