LAYER 06: SPACE 2.0

 You must talk to the media, not to the programmer.

-Marshall McLuhan, The Medium is the Massage, 142

In the village there was a statue whose form changed per the average mood of the villagers. The day i arrived it took the form of an innocent naked child holding a flower. As the days passed and the blue skies turned grayer in anticipation of winter, the child morphed into wrinkly folds of flesh and the earth began to reject us all, spitting dust up beneath our feet.

The growing wall loomed ever higher over the village, and every time i saw it, and even when i didn't see it i could feel it, the thought of my home on the other side seemed increasingly distant.

There was another sculptor i met, young and ambitious and arrogant, who created a work that they claimed could not conceivably be influenced by environmental forces. The sculpture was handful of dirt. i watched the installation of the sculpture, as they spread the dirt over various locations on the village square. The wall, as it grew taller, seemed to grow further and further away.

Surface Tension
Photobook, Terri Warpinski

i had brought some of the photographs i had taken on earlier excursions to various other villages, when i was eager and naive and innocent like the naked boy statue that's now become god knows what. leafing through them, a nostalgia arose in me and i was filled with a desire to see the photos bigger, printed across the walls of the villages, across the dirt and across borders

National Freshwater Fishing Hall of Fame
1984, David Graham

As i prepare to cross the border back home, i have received notice of an outpost at the new ARTS pace of Terri Warpinski and David Graham. i shall check it out. Until then, i send you my thoughts.

gave