Clicking Clacking Self Justification

A few little pictures I put together over the last two weeks - partly as an exercise of passing time but also as a means for developing the use of text within my artwork and to see if I can develop ideas in that direction a little more - I have so much writing but none of it makes much sense - it tends to just collide into itself in a contradictory fashion and negates everything it's attempting to convey... it does lend itself better to a visual image as the subject of my artwork is invariably very much all about falling into meaningful meaninglessness only for concrete normality to get in the way and allow for some kind of collection of repetitive tangible objects and people.

Capacity Avenues Unlock

My existence does feel like a story being told very slowly... what happens when the end credits get called?... does my perception simply drop and unfold as if I'm being screwed up into a ball and thrown into some blank dead space bin?  A place of no stimulation as the audience of one walks away from my blank screen of nobody.

Worryingly I think it's probably safe to say that existence is exactly as we perceive it and that I'm not the only one going through this - and you are all a lot more than subsidiary mannequins and plot cyphers to my own story line.  The above picture is like what I'd imagine living as everyone and everything would be like - though it is depicted on quite a small scale.

Process Void Method

In contrast this image is actually entirely about the trap of being myself and also the creative methods in which I employ and find to be ever so important.  There's a prospect or hope within me to one day be able to produce artwork full time without some day job to support me... that's sometimes a frightening prospect as the motivation to produce work sometimes dwindles through the sheer repetitive nature of cutting and sticking and having to think of new ways of doing it - which is funny because the image above is quite badly put together and it depicts a lost primitive head in it's centre in the middle of it's own loss at to what it's trying to produce.  It's an image where nothing gels with itself.  I do think that the intention is lost in the very essence of what it's trying to convey and it does in the end just look like a bit of rubbish picture.

Turning Machine Clogs

This image is about succumbing to life and accepting the reality of everything bad and everything good and also the veering moods of my own mind as it turns over circumstance and self appraisal and analysis... life circles, spirals and then dies to become something else if only just a pile of sludge and grit and decay... but at the heart of it are cycles and repetitions that will outlast everyone - unless it needs something to observe it in order to exist... 

Perhaps I'm not making an awful lot of sense, do I just write on here my thoughts and ideas hoping they are going to lead to some kind of epiphany where all lines converge away from the cycles and to a finite point of knowing?  Or am I just filling in spaces hoping that these words will be enough to justify what I produce, who I am and why I am doing this?  If that requires justification then I may as well continue to try as I've not quite managed it so far... though maybe one day I'll get there and all my life and thoughts will just click and clack into place with a clicking and clacking of spinning puzzle pieces fitting together fluidly.  All of this preferably on a very nice table in a house of my very own.