|Dawn July 6, 2013|
The performance artist Marina Abramovic who sat across from strangers all day in 2010 has nothing on me. She sat. She just sat during museum hours @ MoMA. She had an audience, company across the table and lines of admirers. I am not sitting. I am doing my writing lying down. I have my cat, facebook, email, the phone and the TV with reruns of Law & Order & NCIS. When my cat's not by my side, she patrols the garden.
I am lying down on my bed to avert the low blood pressure that comes with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. This is an endurance event. 6 weeks into this performance, my neck is a wreck. My hair is falling out. I have chronic, blinding eye strain and my hands, arms and shoulders are practically in spasm most of the day from the constant typing. I am mostly serene and stubborn about getting thru this.
I am on the 16th page of 50 of my third chapter of 5.
I am doing this to seriously ask if art can change the environmental world of the Anthropocene.
My routine is punctuated by meals and brief walks in my garden.
|Each day when I walk in the garden, I watch the subtle changes as flowers bloom and then fade, shifting the palette, textures and trajectory of the eye.|
But in the early morning when I went downstairs, I startled a beautiful Doe having brekkers on my pansies.
|The Doe is the beige smear in the middle as she ran away, but then pauaed to look back at me.|
When I walked down to the garden, nothing seemed much the worse for wear.
|Whatever pansies she'd eaten looked like they were only dead headed.|
Walking back to my house, I stopped in my vegetable garden and I gathered some berries for my own breakfast and then went back to my cocoon.
Each day, I encounter a new group of ideas, the personalities behind them and the work that emerged. My task is to see past my opinions, to humbly & carefully examine the premises, context and results and connect links between the arguments I'm making, the research I've done and what remains to be presented.
Then I consider how this relates to Ghost Nets and Fish Story. It makes my head hurt and my brow furrow. That is a performance.
I fully expect to spread my wings and fly like a butterfly when I'm done,