project641

[project641]

Ode to Architecture’s Ego

One foot caresses the marbled surface at a time, Internal compass and external knowledge of the world guide me around the familiar format - going up the stairs, going down the stairs, going up the stairs, going down the stairs, turning a chiselled corner, failing to notice the touching point where paint meets air. Failing to notice windows in the sky as destination is greeted with comfort, cold bodies laying together on a pleated mattress. Space for singing songs and the sounds of drum beats bouncing off the thick walls. Now it has ownership, captivated by your actions, the blues and the hues responding accordingly - wading through the data thick air, the energy of your excitement threatening to escape the cracks in the rooms, the rooms laid out one after the other, we ran around in the dark and scribbled our names in text on walls and mirrors that were forgotten about. We only had a small light source but he held it brightly and with conviction, so in the company of our own bodies we felt keen to challenge the building senses, exploring what was and what was to be in the discarded card game sitting by the shoreline. Tall and strong and your mind nearly reached the ceiling, the roof held the moon and the tiles were mostly broken, we created spaces within spaces and we chased our dreams out of all the windows. Visions and stairs and twisted piles of concrete and steel leaving their rapture on the thousands of grains of sand, blown over by the scavengers seeking truth in material I’ll ride time and time again down that strip with one thing on my mind, i’ll ride towards death and back again. Hoping to open up the acute sensation of maybe your hands brushing against doorknobs that won’t budge. Another he had littered the frames with pictures of his dreams and the blues that lay around the room all seemed to be pulled into his irises. But I couldn’t fathom the space as solitary, it was momentarily alive inside the thrones of soft orgasms, from a past life we floated together and descended back into these earths, up and down the stairs, and around the corners. Somewhere between lust and necessity your soles grip the motionless solid blocks and hands reach out to pull into the self the energies flying around the room - I could see your dreams flung all around the room in your quiet objects, with their own place it seemed to you, to me, that the stories there were left unsaid, crinkled mysteries that are yours, and yours alone. It was quiet in my mind, body lying underneath a frosted glass lampshade, time replayed in the distance from the bed to the window, to the frames outside, to rooms that I shared with lovers time and time again, windows all whispering to me the tales of their heroes, peaceful.  Long and unfolding another him had windows that held glimpses into grand gestures of fragile ego and splashes of red flooded his actions from time to time, he found solace in the walls and the images splayed across them rather than in the energy of my floating body, and I lay dormant as an outsider, watching the lights flicking on and off in the rooms through his windows, watching the other bodies weaving stories up and down the stairs, and around their corners, I watched him discard my soul down into the waste disposal and it didn’t change the temperature in the room, It felt nothing, it was devoid of certainty or care or expression. It floated in grey and white. The streets sang songs of romance in surface and grand doorknobs lined the rows and rows of fragile dreamers -  but I was motionless in feeling - watching the drainage pipes carry out their systems I felt akin to these moments, chiming in the heavy wind. The air is thick with data and I move up and down the stairs, and around the corners, looking for nothing and breathing the stale air, like all building systems do. From time to time windows frame things I wish to see, from time to time I remember as I float around their spaces - my body is in the room but my soul is within the walls, my mind is in the systems but my thoughts are with the wind, my hands lay on your chest but my palms are rough with concrete, just let me leave behind the idea of this structure- pull it all and walk through the door.

[project641]

Scenes from Albania, 2016  Albania is an extreme, vibrant place, where the people and the land are so full of life and rules are made to be broken, because it nice to be alive!  Albania took my breath away on many occasions, from walking down noisy city streets to standing on top of beautiful mountains - I think it’s a place that people need to fight for everyday to remain as it is, and the people are proud and passionate and funny and just fucking awesome in general.  Also the best line I’ve heard all year is “Mercedes and Ladies” from a joint rolling taxi driver and the best story i heard on my trip was from a guy who owned a small beachside cafe and might (or might not) have exaggerated his story of jumping over landmines and singlehandedly fighting off 25 armed men to protect his land (anyway last photo is his beach and yeah I’d probably dive bomb landmines and karate 25 armed men for this slice) 

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Scene from Skopje, Macedonia, 2016.  I don’t know if this has been cleaned, but in the time I was in Skopje the entire city had been paint bombed by activists against the direction their cities architecture had taken and - I fucking loved it - both visually and the message it created, and the implication of an anonymous voice seeking something other than what is given. Thanks for doing this, whoever you all are  J xx 

[project641]

NEW! Upgrading the Self

Lately, and more frequently, it is widely accepted that people think of almost everything in terms of obsolescence, and apply this to their lives. That is, the pursuit of the new with the full knowledge that in time, it will no longer be up to date with the world around it, therefore it must be changed. I have a theory that this kind of mindset has developed from the complete immersion in the age of simulation, the creation of a simulated identity, and the huge explosion of knowledge we have access to and it’s impact on our perception of time. With such a huge wealth of information, not only do humans want more of it - they cannot process it fast enough and in the pursuit of some sort of momentary satiation about “why the fuck...”  - so much waste is created before that sentence can even be finished. 

Promise is promising itself a new state of promise - money is an illusion that fuels consumption - and mass consumption leads to sentences like  “Virtually every piece of plastic that was ever made still exists in some shape or form (with the exception of the small amount that has been incinerated).”   Upgrades come at a price - but we only see  $$$$$$$$$  because without  $$$$$$$$$$ you’d have to take a lot longer to get all the things you want.  and since  $$$$$$$$$$ virtually doesn’t exist  you’ll never get all the things you want  because  $$$$$$$$$$ is an illusion  that can’t get you feeling alive  what’s left, is your legacy of over 1000 electronic devices that you’ve used and left on earth in your lifetime, while your body has trouble decomposing in the earth, since maybe you consumed too many GMOs thanks to heartless corporations busting farmers out of jobs which actually fund your breast implants which aren’t really biodegradable, so in your final resting place there’s just 2 blobs which will literally be there for thousands, and thousands of years, just like a fucking fossil  So I guess I'm surprised all the time at how consumption had intensified so rapidly, and you can try to pretend and deny it but the reality is that even in my own measly lifetime of 27 years - there have been entire industries and corporations that have suddenly sprung into existence, and hundreds of thousands of products accompanying them- because technology has allowed that to happen.  Technology is not the cause - it’s human perception of what is ‘important’ and what is being portrayed as ‘normal’ to us - some of which we have no control over. But what we do have control over - is the line between necessity and desire

#quitupgradingyourshit

[project641]

What’s Next?

From “writings on the wall”  text based imaging, 2017.  What’s Next?  What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next? What’s Next?

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Crazy winds causing a sandstorm at Bondi beach, 2015. Wind was so strong the sand left scratches as it whipped your face. The beach was deserted except for some photographers, some guy trying to walk his dog and pretending he wasn’t getting whisked away by gale force winds, and this lovely, lovely lady hula hoopin in the skate park.

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Scene from 2015 studio, Sydney. 

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Image taken in: Skopje, Macedonia, August 2016.  View from a newly opened hostel which contained no other guests in it. It was in an old apartment converted to a room in the city centre directly opposite a government building, which was fun to look at stoned. The room we stayed in was covered in pink, and we had a “body guard” visitor who would come to the apartment in the early hours of the morning to make sure we weren’t killed in our sleep and leave half eaten croissants. He didn’t speak much English but made cute attempts at conversation and gave us ice creams, which Macedonians seemed to love. His presence made me feel safe.  Alot of things happened to me in Skopje, much of which makes me grateful to be alive.  Dusko, if you’re out there, I hope you are doing well and we all know our meeting was strange, but useful in life.  It is an interesting place, with much happening below the surface. 

[project641]

Wake up! you’re asleep.

wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re  wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re asleep. wake up! you’re Our visual world is stimulated imagery made up of lines that are informative to us, speaking of human presence, a structured society, an implication that civilisation has occurred. In the presence of these signifiers, the conscious mind becomes complacent in the lull of architectural safety. When the body is removed from these places and placed in landscapes that do not contain these elements, the conscious mind immediately becomes more aware, in turn, awakening bodily awareness, as a growing sense of human scale becomes more apparent. Movements become more calculated, thoughts focus on the present, as the body adapts to a new modes of existence. A sense of humbleness encompasses the fragile human ego.  The problem with western cities today, is that technology is too readily available and woven into the fabric of living. This involves the sneaky restructured thinking of environment interaction - everything from systems such as paywave, taps that turn on by sensors, metro cards and so on. They are the objects and non objects which shape the fabric of human movement in urban society, and a sense of conscious and bodily identity.  An emerging pattern in human behaviour is occurring within the conscious mind, intrinsically linked to the body - which sees some parts of the mind falling asleep. The level of consciousness that we are operating on exists in multiple spaces, offering alternate versions of reality - cyberspace. The imagery you project and receive can shape other humans understanding of you, your understanding of yourself and forces humans to categorize and curate the idea of the self. This restricts living in it’s true form and dissolves the idea of the human being into a series of data that can be rated. This line of thought causes humans to disconnect from real time, and real world. It can be said this is simply humans evolving in mind and body at a rapid pace. Whilst it is indeed true our children will have skills sets and knowledge that we cannot yet fathom. The age of advancement, and giving up of daily skills such as navigating a map to rely more heavily on technology seems to ask the most obvious question - why?  Technology, like many other aspects of life, can have multiple pathways in which it evolves with the human race and the environment, based on the idea of choice. Technology right now, could have been used in western society to allow humans to make a more spiritual connection with themselves, each other and the earth. It has the potential to evolve a better state of living. Perhaps our children will see the error of our ways. Why do we currently choose to satiate desire, as opposed to nurturing growth within the relationships between humans and the world? What is it about reality that makes us dive deeper into the image of surface that we so deeply crave?   Whilst the idea of Utopia seems ludicrous, it seems more inclined that the idea of dystopia is something that humans can believe in, and are taking steps to create. What is left on a planet in which humans choose to be asleep, worrying about lies they have been fed through a world forged by technology, whilst the forces in power choose to destroy the earth, to produce more waste, to continue to build dystopian imagery and visual systems that provide momentary comfort. The idea of luxury is something that is unfair in its essence, yet deeply desired. Desire at the expense of others. The need for self satiation. We are asleep really, surfing on the clouds where ideas and information can be shared just like this post, but never doing anything in the real world. Iconic actions are committed by strangers everyday. There is no recognition in living a life of harmony. They say the first step to any type of healing process is awareness.  Wake up. You’re Asleep.  

[project641]

There is inside the body words untold, open and shut in soft dappled light. The surfaces of these cities loom carelessly abundant, your dreaming passes by over the sea and touches the crevices of your skin. 

The water is dirty, tainted and overflowing with the souls of the city, whispering. You will find conformity in your liberation, but keep your eyes peeled and focus on the window. Between the layer of glass the situations on either side have become distorted, the softness of a bruise shows deeply on the cold substrate. You breathe deeply and your breath leaves a shadow.  Your eyes have consumed too many images and they tell you stories in your sleep The distance between reality and the other worlds we exist in feels faint and untrue Only the Tarmac against your worn soles and the scent of it all  There is truth behind the actions, always. There was moments of truth that I could not and still cannot comprehend. But in this wasteland, everything seems ok, every corner is tainted. The surface is only a pool that carries swarms beneath, unknown and unclassified, free

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Barcelona antenna : taken from O’s apartment in Carrer Del Comte d'Urgell on an iphone 4 with a cracked screen.  O knows who she is. Barcelona welcomed me in many ways.    What signals have you sent out today? 

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“rooftop assemblage 3 of 7″ Dahab, Egypt, 2017.  This was made on top of an abandoned construction site using pieces of iron I had collected along the way. The site was a series of huge resorts which has ceased construction after the concrete pour stage, so they were just skeletons of buildings, with stairs and window and door openings. Since the walk was one long stretch, and there was so many things I found along the way, I’d stash them on the route to the sites and around the sites. I had little piles all the way down the stretch of reef known as “lagoona”. Tiles, scrap metal, glass, palm branches, rocks. Sometimes it would be weird as certain parts of the seemingly random ‘trash’ would disappear from my stashes, I will always wonder who took a large square piece of metal, a 1m timber frame, and for what purpose, but I can only guess. So curious.   In this series of experiments I worked always right before sunset, at various days of the week, observing light quality, plus the sunset there was always dope. I was always working in a rush as people would always stop me along the way to chat or say hello, I’d get caught up in conversations and end up racing the sunset. The only time I could work without distraction was when I rode my bike down there, and even so one time a security guard caught me messing about in the sites by following my bike trail. Instead of kicking me out, he took me to the roof and showed me a safe way to get down, marking the route we took through the building skeleton with bits of green pipe lying around, told me to have fun and not fall in a construction hole before heading home.  I made about 7 assemblages the day this image was taken, and would just sort of watch the lines disappear with the sunset. Unfortunately at the time I was doing alot of these works and other works - I had dropped my phone into an open drain which fucked up the lens. So I only have photos from one day of doing this. 

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Standing outside an abandoned building you had to sort of climb through a sea of abandoned cars to get to. In the little mountain village of Sierra de Caramulo Portugal, stopped for a coffee after visiting the beautiful gallery, where I saw a real Picasso in the flesh *slaps face*, alongside some giant tapestries that were made before Australia was even discovered - but being nosy tourists coffee turned into wandering around the town and this is where I lost one of the other artists at the residency as she wandered off with her camera. I just sort of kicked some glass, threw a piece of concrete, and scavenged the site for materials - why does all this abandoned stuff make us feel like we have to throw it around?  I remember once in Australia with some classmates on a “drawing trip” we were staying in this rural village, found a massive dump and sort of just started throwing the trash around for no reason - other than to make noise and test out the slo-mo on someones new phone - this image kind of reminds me of those moments where we feel a need to break some shit for the sake of it.  why not listen to check yourself: ice cube? 

#ghostarchitecture

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“fuck, flux”  Digital photographs collage, 2017.   Images taken in Dahab, Egypt, and Bucharest, Romania. 

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cyber surf on fantasy island

why not listen to chamber of reflection : mac demarco  People can live in spaces that are entirely fabricated by the imagination. Entire conversations could be had with that special someone, you could live a whole life within the space of a cardboard box. You can walk through a shopping mall, imagining you're on a tropical island, that girl with big breasts bounces by as your playlist lines up in perfect harmony with the guy doing breastroke on the water. Here, you are evergreen. Wind comes at you from all directions as likes come rolling in while you pay for your groceries on a self serve checkout. You live in rendered boxes made in factories, but your desires are splayed all over the city where your thoughts roll by every night, lit by a small handheld glow. Some images catch your attention from time to time, you feel you want things you can’t really want, you think about invisible masses of force as your body is enveloped by pulsations of the world around you, you think, you look at that person and think what is it they really want from me? People walk around all the time, but they’re not really walking. They’re slicing through space and time, letting off energies and churning deep pools of scars into the earth, into each other.  It’s like the surface of a wave - if you watch the water for a minute you’ll see a perfect structure form a seemingly solid landscape, an abundance of liquid lies there and in a second it’s gone. It’s kind of the cross over between cyber space and real space, we are always just dancing on the surface until we can plunge ourselves into it all, but we’re still kind of land creatures.  Structure is managing to make a stack of cards stand for awhile, it can look pretty damn solid sometimes but nothings all that permanent. So in your life maybe you’ve used like 20 packs of cards and built way more useless stacks and realise that shit, I’ve killed about 700 trees in the quest for this thing  - it offers nothing to me really, it’s just empty space. So I’d rather skim the waves and cyber surf on fantasy island - whatever you build there is just space in your mind. 

[project641]

Escapism & Hyper awareness

In the advent of researching self awareness, it has led me down many paths which seem to all lead back to a theory of hyper awareness.  Hyper awareness is the conscious activity of being aware of one’s own existence; we choose to engage in all realms of existence simultaneously. In the cyber world, you find that hyper awareness is well, being aware that you are aware, and actively participating in asking all those questions - am I alive? Yet doing so in a fashion that allows a space in the mind for escapism of that awareness. By essentially “living” through an online persona, that blur between real-world motivation and cyber-world motivation are intrinsically tied by the very physical yet corporeal - technology. Basically a tool for hyper aware activity, in order to revert back into escapism from reality.  Yes, it’s confusing as fuck. Is that why you maybe sometimes you catch sight of yourself in a reflection and ask - is that fucker really me?  I made this collage in response to this idea. 

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Image: Taken in Sector 3, Bucharest, Romania, 2016. One thing about Bucharest I could feel from the cities architecture was not so much the greyness of communism that’s sort of a cultural reminder, but in those dividing decisions upon town planning. Where does this go, why is this here, etc. Invisible lines are drawn all over - the body feels a pull toward centre, to monument.  But really more importantly - where the fuck do these green drainage pipes go?