Photographs are, of course, artefacts. But their appeal is that they also seem, in a world littered with photographic relics, to have the status of found objects –unpremeditated slices of the world. Thus they trade simultaneously on the prestige of art and the magic of the real (Sontag, 1971, P. 69).
Laurent Chéhère, 2012, The linen which dries (Flying houses series) [Photograph]
I saw this image by French photographer Laurent Chéhère on the front of the latest Afterimage: Journal of media arts and cultural criticism, and it captured my attention. I love it without knowing how to articulate exactly why I love it… I have decided to add one image to my blog each week that inspires or excites me.
(Click on the image to go to Chéhère’s website)
Through some of my recent research I’ve started thinking about the concept of forgetting. When you think about it memory is made up of both remembering and forgetting. Memories aren’t truths because they never represent the full picture. For everything that our brain places importance on, how many countless things have been discarded? Memory is a selection process.
A few years ago I started recording my dreams, convinced I could find some insightful narrative. I found I started remembering them more clearly and more often if I wrote them down the moment I woke up. But I couldn’t keep it up, the more I remembered of my dreams the more sleep deprived and crazy I felt. As soon as I stopped recording them they disappeared quickly after I woke and somehow I felt as though I had really slept. It seemed to me that the act of remembering my dreams worked against the sleep process, and undid the feeling of having experienced rest.
The whole experience made me appreciate the process of forgetting. Forgetting my dreams became a relief.
Justine Giles, 2013, Toby and friend [graphite on paper].
After the Masters Seminar, my partner came up to Auckland to visit, and brought with him these fantasy miniatures that he is painting. There’re meant to be used for some kind of highly nerdy gameplay I don’t understand, so when he offered to let me paint a couple, I cheekily asked if I could paint them the ‘wrong’ colours. Apparently there is no easy way to subvert these characters, I’m told a blue ogre with lots of gold bling is acceptable, and even calling it an “Angry Smurf” was met with bemused patience. Similarly my purple Orc failed to even raise an eyebrow. (In retrospect, I wish I’d painted his tiny toenails in some fabulous nail-polish colour). Continue reading
This book was among some of the rejects donated to the library… I think it is AMAZING. Inside it is blank and handwritten on the first page is this:
“Tired out, sorry can’t manage any more”.
I don’t know that it can be made into art, because I suspect it already is art, but I think it is genius, so had to share it here. Would love to know if it is accidental art or on-purpose art.
During one of the toolbox sessions Anthony pointed out that some of us were trying too hard to make connections between our readings and our own practice. I know that this is something I am particularly guilty of, I do have a tendency to look closely for parallel lines and thinking and I do try to parcel it all up in neat little boxes. His suggestion was to just write about anything and everything of interest and that the connections would become clear on their own without having to constantly point them out.
Thought it would be a good idea to have a blog record of the notes taken for me at my critiques. Thank you to Margaret, Margy and Julie for writing it all down! 🙂 Continue reading