Performance
Meditation Drawing (Live)
2017
30-minute meditation drawing and sound installation
Fellows of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles
2017
30-minute meditation drawing and sound installation
Fellows of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles
Collaboration with sound artist Geneva Skeen. We performed a meditative duet of sound and mark-making, each responding to the other. A dialogue across media emerged as both women communicated through the sensing body.
TUESDAY (Detail)
2011
Performance in four parts
All that was discussed, touched, thought, and accomplished.
2011
Performance in four parts
All that was discussed, touched, thought, and accomplished.
Tuesday!
At first, I thought it would be fun to fit something really large (like all Sundays) into a really small space. To capture time. To squeeze everything I did on Sunday, and maybe every Sunday, into a one-inch square. Someone’s performance would be squeezed into a one-inch square.
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I ate yogurt with cut peaches for breakfast, and I talked with the Librarian. She said, “I cannot explain. I can only show you how it is done.”
I don’t recall the word for this thing, what it does, or how to use it. It’s just something I’ve seen in the past. But, I’m drawn to it because I can’t remember. As H would say, “silence that does not reside on the surface, but is held like smoke within.” I think that makes a lot of sense.
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Tuesday!
And the squares would be a visual diary – recording all that I ate, touched, talked about, and accomplished in 24-hours. The pedestals didn’t count in the one-inch restriction. They would act as a measurement pun, a loop-hole.
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The cinder-block-day was clearly a worse day than the previous week, which was June 15, 2010, and I would talk about it like this:
“…dripped and got in my shoes. Some belongings are more reflective than others, apparently, and seemingly more difficult to remove."
=========
On April 27, 2010 I ate a lot of pasta and went to class, which of course I don’t do now that I’ve graduated. I slept, but for not enough time. I had roughly 15 memorable thoughts. One of which was:
[Slowly:]
I think that makes a lot of sense.
I think that makes a lot of sense.
I think that makes a lot of sense.
========
There was a woman who mothered a woman who mothered a woman who is standing beside you now. While on a trip away from home, she went down steps to an outside garden and watched the snow.
There was a woman who mothered a woman who mothered a woman who is standing beside you now. While on a trip away from home, she mourned the loss of her long hair.
There was a woman who mothered a woman who mothered a man who is standing beside you now. While on a trip away from home, she counted 23 children outside the building.
There was a woman who mothered a woman who mothered a man who is standing beside you now. While on a trip away from home, she wondered why it had taken her 42 years to see it this way.
========
Jessica said that Godard said that it takes a day to describe the history of a second.
This particular Tuesday gets tricky:
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There is an old sculpture in here, an old love machine kit. The one made by a man in a show about women. I constructed boxes and broke boxes today. Things grew and things died. Feet were flattened a little, but strengthened, too. Approximately 18 people stood in place, turning slowly to the right.
======
Tuesday!
By this point the capture-time idea was wearing thin, and I had a good-bye studio visit with Shirley.
I parsed out only one day of the week for the show, and modified the performance for the small space. I would wear white. On Sept. 7, 2010, I asked Shawn to write out everything she remembered about turning in place. She agreed.
And then I danced for one-hour at Carl’s Bar, now defunct. I fed my cat, answered emails, and went to bed.
+++++++++++++
Quoted: "Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World" by Haruki Murakami.
At first, I thought it would be fun to fit something really large (like all Sundays) into a really small space. To capture time. To squeeze everything I did on Sunday, and maybe every Sunday, into a one-inch square. Someone’s performance would be squeezed into a one-inch square.
=======
I ate yogurt with cut peaches for breakfast, and I talked with the Librarian. She said, “I cannot explain. I can only show you how it is done.”
I don’t recall the word for this thing, what it does, or how to use it. It’s just something I’ve seen in the past. But, I’m drawn to it because I can’t remember. As H would say, “silence that does not reside on the surface, but is held like smoke within.” I think that makes a lot of sense.
=======
Tuesday!
And the squares would be a visual diary – recording all that I ate, touched, talked about, and accomplished in 24-hours. The pedestals didn’t count in the one-inch restriction. They would act as a measurement pun, a loop-hole.
========
The cinder-block-day was clearly a worse day than the previous week, which was June 15, 2010, and I would talk about it like this:
“…dripped and got in my shoes. Some belongings are more reflective than others, apparently, and seemingly more difficult to remove."
=========
On April 27, 2010 I ate a lot of pasta and went to class, which of course I don’t do now that I’ve graduated. I slept, but for not enough time. I had roughly 15 memorable thoughts. One of which was:
[Slowly:]
I think that makes a lot of sense.
I think that makes a lot of sense.
I think that makes a lot of sense.
========
There was a woman who mothered a woman who mothered a woman who is standing beside you now. While on a trip away from home, she went down steps to an outside garden and watched the snow.
There was a woman who mothered a woman who mothered a woman who is standing beside you now. While on a trip away from home, she mourned the loss of her long hair.
There was a woman who mothered a woman who mothered a man who is standing beside you now. While on a trip away from home, she counted 23 children outside the building.
There was a woman who mothered a woman who mothered a man who is standing beside you now. While on a trip away from home, she wondered why it had taken her 42 years to see it this way.
========
Jessica said that Godard said that it takes a day to describe the history of a second.
This particular Tuesday gets tricky:
=======
There is an old sculpture in here, an old love machine kit. The one made by a man in a show about women. I constructed boxes and broke boxes today. Things grew and things died. Feet were flattened a little, but strengthened, too. Approximately 18 people stood in place, turning slowly to the right.
======
Tuesday!
By this point the capture-time idea was wearing thin, and I had a good-bye studio visit with Shirley.
I parsed out only one day of the week for the show, and modified the performance for the small space. I would wear white. On Sept. 7, 2010, I asked Shawn to write out everything she remembered about turning in place. She agreed.
And then I danced for one-hour at Carl’s Bar, now defunct. I fed my cat, answered emails, and went to bed.
+++++++++++++
Quoted: "Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World" by Haruki Murakami.