the odd thing about this is, I think, that it was almost exactly a year ago I tried stop motion last., I used a dolls house, n the whole thing was shadowy and inconsistent. Ramshackle is, however, what I generally pretend I'm going for- which is just as well because this time I tried drawing and it's similarly a long way from slick.. I kept animating the wrong pieces, and I was in a bit of a rush to get off the kitchen table, and replace all stolen technology before the various members of my family to whom said table and technologies belong returned. none of this is of any consequence but here is a blob that earns arms. I am one plagued by a nigh on pathological problem with decision making. It is a concern that has featured in some of my work, but more often it is a concern that has prevented me making any.
Whether these anxieties are the product of a sense of the finite, or rather a sense of the infinite I have not quite decided. At this particular moment in time, I would suggest that they rise from the neurotic belief that, in choosing, I am imposing limits on what initially appears an infinite assortment of options. This, coupled with a dread of irreversibility. Needless to say, it's all very deep. I have been experimenting with methods to help me let go of these ludicrous qualms: making myself bolt things down permanently, avoiding decision making altogether, routine, so far all to no avail. AND THEN the other day it struck me! Huzzah, a solution! I do not have to choose one thing, if I am two people. Alter egos are fairly common on the grand boulevards and seedy alleyways of the art world. People opt for pen names all the time to shelter their identities, and some go so far as to do it for fun. Duchamp played at being a woman with a pun for a name, Lucie Schwob similarly fuddled ideas of gender, masquerading as the striking and androgynous Claude Cahun, and Max Ernst spirit rested in some bizarre, primordial bird creature called LopLop (classic Max, always had to be different.) I decided I would start slowly, starting with Tuesdays (cos I've got less on). I shall be a different person on Tuesdays. Hence Ruby Tuesdays. Ruby can make all the art I can't let myself create because of the analytical, critiquing basketcase stomping on my pre-frontal cortex. Ruby can have a theoretically separate cortex. So far, putting this plan into action has not been so clear cut as I had initially hoped. It took me a good couple of weeks to pick the wig alone, (one simply must have a wig to be a new person) and obviously I'm not happy with the one I chose. Furthermore, now I've made the commitment of buying said wig, I'm tearing holes in the whole concept. And what on earth does Ruby Lee Watts even make and call "art"? I suppose we watch this space, on the off chance it moves.... I have been devising the Apathetes' next sit down intervention.
NeevohteeB The Irreverent.Above is my submission to Jayne Dent's Underscore, a project which will result in both an anthology of graphic scores, and an evening of performers responding to them. It is the latter that I'm most looking forward to, for sadistic reasons of course... |