This one feels like cutting room floor scraps. The title refers to the final frame, which is a still from Eno's Thursday Afternoon video of clouds in high contrast and hot colors. The translation - here - didn't rise to my aspirations.
The second frame, a Bauhaus-era diagram mated with a rendering of an architectural photo of Bauhaus architecture, slightly too sloppy to pull itself off. The top line not on a parallel feels botched (and could easily have been repaired.)
The third frame, intestines at a remove from a torso, adequate, but too simplistic compared to the first and fourth frames, yet without conveying the sense of depth I was hoping for. Again, this says to me that I didn't plan well enough.
And the first, although I'm very happy with the stippling that allows my nose to leap off the page, just doesn't make sense with the halftone pattern plane bisecting my mind.
I suppose there is a progression here, and a nod toward the traditional roles: a censorious depiction of a bifurcated (or binary, at least) mind; anxiety around diagramming and communication / maps; the reality of life measured by digestive dysfunction; a resolution involving continuous motion, boundless and formless. In the end, they all seemed empty and disconnected, as though they were 70's paperback covers. OK on their own, but having nothing to do with the pages beyond.
This one feels like cutting room floor scraps. The title refers to the final frame, which is a still from Eno's Thursday Afternoon video of clouds in high contrast and hot colors. The translation - here - didn't rise to my aspirations.
ReplyDeleteThe second frame, a Bauhaus-era diagram mated with a rendering of an architectural photo of Bauhaus architecture, slightly too sloppy to pull itself off. The top line not on a parallel feels botched (and could easily have been repaired.)
The third frame, intestines at a remove from a torso, adequate, but too simplistic compared to the first and fourth frames, yet without conveying the sense of depth I was hoping for. Again, this says to me that I didn't plan well enough.
And the first, although I'm very happy with the stippling that allows my nose to leap off the page, just doesn't make sense with the halftone pattern plane bisecting my mind.
I suppose there is a progression here, and a nod toward the traditional roles: a censorious depiction of a bifurcated (or binary, at least) mind; anxiety around diagramming and communication / maps; the reality of life measured by digestive dysfunction; a resolution involving continuous motion, boundless and formless. In the end, they all seemed empty and disconnected, as though they were 70's paperback covers. OK on their own, but having nothing to do with the pages beyond.