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.

Snaps from the car: between Islington and Clapham

Snow makes me very happy

We built this snowman today: a happy happy snowman :-)

Drawing: the world is independent of my will.

"The world is independent of my will" (TLP, 6.373)

I had this A3 drawing ready for the MA Xmas party. Unfortunately, Lambeth dug up our road without warning today. Resurfacing. As a result I could not get to Camberwell.
Suddenly, Wittgenstein's quote seems very relevant.

Burning books - no8

Introduction

The Getaway





I am taking books, that no longer have the society that supports them (uh! I have got a barn full of them!) and I reduce them to an immensely fragile state - so fragile, that they may disintegrate in hands - just like the memory of the times, that they represent.

Burning books - no7

I have started accumulating samples now to produce more predictable results.

The results are ephemeral and somewhat other-wordly indeed, but not so fragile, that I would not be able to touch or transport them.

I am taking books, that no longer have the society that supports them (uh! I have got a barn full of them!) and I reduce them to an immensely fragile state - so fragile, that they may disintegrate in hands - just like the memory of the times, that they represent.

Porcelain airplanes.

Paper airplanes. In porcelain.

Headstones. Shatter. Gone.

As a late teenager I had a screensaver on my computer, that showed different ways to fold paper aircrafts. I do remember making one that actually flew.

Byproduct: glass in porcelain experiments.

Byproduct of experimentation with glass and porcelain. The light from the other side, coloured by glass.

Burning books - no6

I cycled back grinning today. Isn't it glorious when things go right!

I have got the text. Yes, I have got all of the text on the pages of my books. They look ephemeral and other-worldly, translucent and extremely fragile. Beautiful. I am finally happy about something I have done.

Except - they are the wrong kind of books and, therefore, they have the wrong kind of text. My wheelbarrow is arriving to London in afew weeks time. In January, when the workshop reopens I will start firing them.

I am taking books, that no longer have the society that supports them (uh! I have got a barn full of them!) and I reduce them to an immensely fragile state - so fragile, that they may disintegrate in hands - just like the memory of the times, that they represent.