Tuesday, March 11, 2008


There was a word file called "ART" that was erased when my computer went kaput; recovered through file recovery software, it yielded the following:

What is post-post-modernism? Or post-anti-modernism? Amodernism?

A book I didn't get to writing

The preface for a book that builds a narrative out of reviews (the kind you see in the first pages of bestselling novels).

Candy Representation Project

Again, no participants. Lost my picture of the cookie array (each represented a different country/locale by color/variety/shape/style/flavor).

so hey, friend. sunny experience. transforming objectivity. y holding a thought. exhilaration.

Lettering was a blog dedicated to a project that was thought of as a letter-circle based on randomly distributed, spontaneous visual communication within a magazine.

The note says something to the lines of "Please respond and pass on, visit letterring.blogspot.com to post responses"



I handed it to a friend and he did not continue/respond so the project did not launch.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Response to Naomi Shihab Nye's poem, Rain

...The spaces I left unfilled
as I shut my windows to stop the rain
from pouring out

Monday, September 24, 2007

Zippetty doo dah

A poem of songs sequenced off ITunes shuffle:

Life in a glasshouse first meditation on the purpose I think it could work, marilyn bulletproof I wish I was an owl with knees bluing gamelan part 2 JS Bach: Cello Suite #1 in G BWV 1007 – 1. Prelude songbird lucky beatam me dicent magnificat samurai sword autumn leaves slow moves track 15 stellar hints basin street white light of go to sleep sad sexy killer cars pyramid song six days at the bottom of the

Shantideva and Barnett Newman (with his "Zips") approached the same idea:

The “I” possible in relation to the “you”…The very word “I” which so poignantly hints at that elusive sense of what is most irreducibly particular to a person, only makes sense as part of a language that includes “you,” “him,” “her,” “us,” and them.” an empty self turns out to be a relational self.

A passage in Stephen Batchelor's Verses from the Center:

I should dispel the pain of others
because it hurts like my own
And I should be good to them
Because they feel just as I do.
When both they and I
Are the same in wanting joy
And not desiring pain,
What is so special about me?

I wonder how to translate this passage visually or instrumentally.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

A [box] of silence for Mr. Sol LeWitt


1. Create a box in silence.
2. Take 78 moments.
3. Let the knowledge that your box is a box expire by Moment Number 78.

(Obituary: Sol LeWitt, Master of Conceptualism, [Passes Away] at 78)

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Puddle soundwaves

I wondered what it would sound like if I took a picture of this puddle every minute and converted the puddles' outlines into soundwaves linked over the percussive layer of rain falling into different areas within the puddle.

A letter and three numbers

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

The tic in aesthetic

Materials: Chewed gum, nettles, moss.

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

out of sight out of mind

Burnt out.

An experimental printmaking process using oven coils on bread

Wednesday, February 7, 2007


Above: Found on OSU painting studio floor
Below: Spinning board with chopsticks wired to play drums.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Bleorg expresses its own sound: A spontaneous, often whimsical performative action that may result in a visual product. The practice began for me when I stopped being able to produce "artworks," questioning my own processes and feeling that extended projects were never enough to encompass my range of experiences and imagination. For a long period, I accumulated a frustrating number of inactive ideas.

My frustrating inability to express myself in a manner I found satisfying compelled me to create a largely undocumented body of circumstantially inspired, transitory activities. These ranged from installing art projects in extemporaneously appropriate public places, reorganizing elements around me, interacting with natural processes and people.

In his discourse of liminoid and liminal experiences, anthropologist Victor Turner refers to the boundary our society draws between work and leisure activities. As technological advances engender a faster-paced environment and more demands on time, I've observed that 'work' burdens increase. Contemporary studies define poverty in terms of well-being, intellectual development and health rather than income. As a student, I found myself living in abject personal poverty as I struggled to balance my time under the traditional work/leisure dichotomy.

I have found in my studies and travels that Korean culture provides an alternate mindset: Merging work and leisure by making everyday actions meaningful and interactive. I see the blogging domain as a movement towards personally (and, due to its public nature, collectively) acknowledging the value in everyday or so-called "mundane" routines/rituals. For example, two VT students, from the sparse resources of their dorm room, may show how eating cereal and milk could turn into a humorous celebration (http://filebox.vt.edu/users/mfeid/vtpage/milkmovie.htm).

From personal experience in the blogging world, I've noticed the drawback to blogging as its uncensored realms start to become a weapon of mass distraction. I realized there must be something wrong when I find myself chatting online to a friend sitting ten feet away. My idea for Bleorgs (and the other blogs) came from the desire to redirect and rekindle attention towards appreciating the imaginative potential in real world events, from minute details to human interaction by consciously documenting creative scenarios and their byproducts. I hope for my blog to be a forum for interaction rather than introversion. At the very least, even if my work remains in relative obscurity, my blog will provide me incentive to document my process.

This "art" method is, in part, helping me overcome my crippling personal inhibitions by incorporating expression into my daily experience. Knowing my works will last about as long as it takes for a natural occurrence to sweep it away eases the burden of failed expectations and dormant ideas that accumulate in every passing moment with the accusatory voracity of unpaid parking tickets.

What makes a painting, photograph, digital image, print etc. more "art" than a newspaper article that might be discarded and trampled in the street? Gathering information and the experience to write an article appears to me an art process, where information is as comparably ubiquitous as Coke and potato chips. I am curious as to the effects of projecting improvised, impermanent actions into an easily evanescent digital network.