The Topologist's Dream...

number 4.

Z.

Topologies: Touching Skies

Touching. Almost.

Z.

Topologies: Curating Grounds

And some details of it all... the ones that count.

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Topologies: Constructing Skies.

There are always details lying around, clues to the bigger picture.

Z.

New Topologies.

Topologies: Finding our Geometries.

Z.

Punctuation.

traces of weight and punctuation...

Z.

Defective links...

Compounding the obvious...

Z.

Found Composition.

Navigating our geometries.

Chasing Geometries.

for/as emptiness... 

And we chase geometries that are silent, 

diligently remapping ourselves.

We are each other's topologist.

Z.

[Re] Making Through Trace

Readymade. There is nothing readymade about the painter's blank canvas or the draftsman’s white sheet, even if we could say that each of those surfaces is already organized, already structured by the lattice through which perspective will map the coordinates of external space. For the smooth white surface of each is nonetheless the index of a kind of emptiness, a fundamental blankness which is that of the visual field itself understood as a field of projection. It stands, that is, for what is assumed to be the nature of vision's spontaneous opening onto the external world as a limitless beyond, an ever retreating horizon, a reserve assumed from the outset but never filled in advance. If in traditional perspective vanishing point and viewing point, horizon line and canvas surface, finally mirror one another in a complicitous reversibility, this is because they represent two funds of pure potentiality, two locations of the always-ever never-yet-filled: on the one hand, the horizon that vision probes, and on the other, the welling up of the glance.

Rosalind E. Krauss, The Optical Unconscious, p. 54, MIT press, 1994 - In a section where she is speaking of Max Ernst's The Master's Bedroom, 1920  

Pentimento.

... because sometimes transformation is necessary.

Z.

Tractus.

ViVa!

Suspendere...

Anchors for light.

Light anchors.

Are your feet firmly on the ground?

Are your eyes grinding the firmament?

Light curiously enters us, but where does it go?

Does it lie in wait on the floor of our eyes?

Or does it subjugate us into believing its form?

Anchoring us to the ground below

without truly eliminating suspension.

Firmare

Fix...

Always watching... Grasshopper.

Graceful vigilance

Energy absorbing sun

Like warm watchful eyes

Really? I beg to differ.

Untitled (Bandage and Line #1)

Draw: trace or produce (a line or mark) on a surface.

Centre.

Most aren't open to understanding things. Minds close and forget that which we were born to do. Play is important: curiosity and imagination. TED knows; there is no excuse anymore for not knowing.

Traces of myself, left behind me.

Drifting meditations:

Gliding like ghostly thoughts through foggy forest, footprints become phantasmic momentary lingerers that accompany the traces that fade foolishly until I disperse them again, organically.

Playing...

This place is awesome for playing with friends!!!

We should always be playing... why do we grow up to be so not playful?

Z.

Saturation.

Some things become more saturated sometimes:
In a grand scheme, details could perhaps be overlooked;
sometimes they can be disregarded, such is Abstraction.
Being drawn away from the details could also be unsatisfactory.
Details, often, are the only way to differ from one another,
Beautifully.
Like tiptoeing through, changing your gait, and feeling new things.

Z.

Leftovers.

Process. That's all. Process.

Pomme.

Oui, pomme.

Because nobody will do it for you.

Post.
Z.

Over a horizon.

New topographers are lurking...

Z.

... and...

Kaïros.

Perspective sinks in...

near... far...
It is a constant. Perspective.
Context. 1. 2. 3.
Becoming something true.
Truing context.
Exactitude
left untouched.
Z.

Knowing who you are...

On days when being is within us.

To live with ghosts requires solitude.
—Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces

In the time it takes to send myself to you...

The rotation turns from flow through trine and all along keeps the measurement of you.
Around you, partially, without loosing sight.
A list of things appears annotated by picas of parsecs, fragments of the lines that draw you.
Knowing is all that matters.
Draped in an ell of light.

02009.

OX

Second guessing movement.

Traveling around the axis in parallel ways.

Not coming soon.

Unbuilding.

Coming soon.

Rebuilding something that never existed.

Game On.

The WonderBread Project,
Eastern Edge Gallery, St John's, NL, Canada
02 May 02009 - 13 June 02009

Overtaken.

The desert still screams
Under sun and sky and cloud
like breath over skin

The Entire World.

So, this is it. All of it.
An entire orange once fit in this skin.
Now gone, the vessel dried out, but still structurally intact.
A new architecture. Complete in itself.

Z.