November 26, 2005
its sunset at quarter to five out here on a 450 acre patch of land in Connecticut called ‘i-park,’ where i’m doing an artist’s residency. The sky is currently a mix of purple and deep deep blue. Several other artists are here, a ceramicist from Russia, a painter from Australia, and a sculptor from Wales at the moment. I’m pleased to be with people who are engaged with other materials unrelated to screens and cables.
It’s very quiet here.
I think the point of an artist’s residency is to allow the artist’s thinking to cool in a brew of quiet, so the artist can hear his or her own internal monkey chatter, and make the necessary connections urged on by said brain at hand. Putting pen to paper, finger to key, mouse to table, camera to sky, chainsaw to wood. Or go mad.
Its fruitful yet a bit strange so far — perhaps because this part of Connecticut is known for some strange noises deep within the earth.
My studio has no net connection…dreams become very much merged with screens and screens with memory… I think i may have forgotten if the events of the last month of my life (at least–maybe stretch that a couple of years) are in fact, factual. the trees are crisp and somber. more later from the land of the unplugged…