a brief note on “process videos”

I don’t and won’t make “process videos” because, one, I have no clue what I’m doing as is and therefore dedicate all my concentration to not cutting off limbs and/or setting myself on fire; and two, I’m enough of an internet boomer (young Gen-X or ancient millenial cusper that my 1981 self is) to remember the last time “share your process” was all the internet rage, back in 2006-2013, give or take, and to remember those dark days, weeks, months, and years that I was vulnerable, green, and hopeful enough to waste what creative energy I had back then on it with precisely fuckall to show for it now so pardon me if, in this, the video / hey guys era of process (videos), I’m resolved to keep my practice and my limbs to myself – though I’m sure a TikTok of an old shit like me losing a finger would be a total viral sensation but nonono/sorry: the most you’d get would be is a little run-on grotesque like this typed with nine fingers or less on the internet equivalent of a cuneiform scroll (insert blogs rool / toks drool or somesuch chant of the internet-old and infirm). Dog videos on the other hand? Count me in.

monday morning principles addition from a hard-learned clarity over the weekend:

“When I find myself working to hate something less instead of loving it more, it’s time to either a.) work backwards to find where I last loved it or, in extreme cases, b.) tear it all down and start from scratch.”

another day, another principles update:

“/005: More often than not, the (creative) decision preceded by “fuck it” is the best one.”

Updated my principles page:

“Being adaptable to your creative tempo changing with each project is essential: sometimes outrunning your thoughts is the way; sometimes you have to slow down and find a different path with a microscope. All are valid so long as it gets the work where it wants to go.”

Didn’t cross my mind when I was building the Shedporch gallery, but it’s had the unintended benefit of giving me new ideas for pieces to fill spaces. Both yesterday’s piece and today’s came from seeing a gap in notions and poses I hadn’t tried before. Nifty.

refueling

THE VOID (A USER'S GUIDE)

If you've followed my work or internet brain for any period of time at all, you've no doubt learned that I call that hellish interregnum between the conclusion of a project and the start of another The Void (and yes, The The, as in The Morkie, is capitalized); this, The Void, being where I happen to be at the moment. So, thanks to a chat with the inimitable Kay Sohini (follow her work with abandon; it's brilliant) about our respective navigations of The Void, I found a way to cook a creature I scribbled into this little zine about what, exactly, The Void is. You can read it here (or by clicking through the cover above); if you'd like a physical copy, hit me up.

Orson Welles on ignorance

This 1960 interview, particularly when he talks about how his ignorance of film let him make CITIZEN KANE, was my main reason for giving up writing (which I knew enough about to make me timid) for metalwork (of which I knew nothing). A perpetual inspiration.

foundations

Some have been with me for decades, others for far less, but these are the books that have shaped my creative thinking over however long it’s been now that I’ve been doing whatever this is that I've been doing.

fuck it

After 30+ years in some form of creative practice, the only lesson I’ve learned worth passing on is that the magic words are “fuck it” – as in “fuck it, I’m going to The Shed and freeze and fiddle with things,” or “fuck it, I have no clue what I’m doing so (so - not but!) I’m going to do it anyhow because that’s the only way to learn”: this magical refrain being what drew me out of the past few days’ creative stupor (nice to see that posting here again with regularity and verbosity wasn’t solely because of the stupor) to the point that maybe, just maybe I have the start of something worth pursuing that makes use of all those flat metal rods that I cut for another project before deciding to go in a different direction (fuck it), flat metal rods which have, for the last week, been sitting on the workbench with the nine-inch-ish flat metal rod equivalent of a middle finger pointing in my general direction and sneering.