Friday, December 11, 2009

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Topologies: Touching Skies

Touching. Almost.


Topologies: Curating Grounds

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


Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Topologies: Constructing Skies.

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


Tuesday, December 01, 2009

New Topologies.

Topologies: Finding our Geometries.


Saturday, November 28, 2009


traces of weight and punctuation...


Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Defective links...

Compounding the obvious...


Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Found Composition.

Navigating our geometries.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Chasing Geometries.

for/as emptiness... 

And we chase geometries that are silent, 
diligently remapping ourselves.
We are each other's topologist.


Friday, November 20, 2009

[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  

Friday, October 30, 2009


... because sometimes transformation is necessary.


Saturday, September 19, 2009

Monday, August 24, 2009


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.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Always watching... Grasshopper.

Graceful vigilance
Energy absorbing sun
Like warm watchful eyes

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Untitled (Bandage and Line #1)

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

Monday, June 22, 2009


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.

Friday, June 19, 2009


This place is awesome for playing with friends!!!
We should always be playing... why do we grow up to be so not playful?


Thursday, June 18, 2009


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,
Like tiptoeing through, changing your gait, and feeling new things.


Tuesday, June 16, 2009


Process. That's all. Process.

Monday, June 15, 2009


Oui, pomme.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Because nobody will do it for you.


Over a horizon.

New topographers are lurking...


... and...


Perspective sinks in...

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

Monday, June 08, 2009

Knowing who you are...

On days when being is within us.

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

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

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.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009



Second guessing movement.

Traveling around the axis in parallel ways.

Not coming soon.


Coming soon.

Rebuilding something that never existed.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Game On.

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

Monday, April 27, 2009


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

Thursday, April 23, 2009

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.


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