- T.S. Elliot, The Love Song of Alfred J. Prucock
Just a couple of lines that have been stuck in my head for a few weeks, that I find quite amusing, and coincide with some research that i'm embarking upon about aging, immortality, posterity and monuments.
Hearing about the Easter Island heads again on South Pacific this week sort of fit into this idea for a project stemming from the phrase Bigger than Death, which I stole and twisted from the film 24 Hour Party People (When Martin Hannett's coffin won't fit in his grave, Tony Wilson remarks that he was "too big for death"). I wonder if the size of structures like the Easter Island statues or skyscrapers or Tatlin's Tower have behind their creation some idea that the bigger things are, the more permanent they will be; living on beyond the physical life of the maker.
I remembered something else today that i'd almost forgotten about completely. A couple of months back, Will and I were at the V&A marveling at some Japanese Netsuke; traditional 'toggles' for pouches, and carved from wood or ivory. They range from beautifully simple to the most intricately-detailed specimens, and are well worth a look...i need to have another think about how to get these into my work. Maybe i'll make some of my own.
Also, next week I should be resuming the recording of an album i'm making under the moniker Glaciers. I have decided to make a track available for download here, it's only about 40 seconds long and it's not mixed or anything. Just wanted to put something up as an idea of what it might become...
The project with Thoughtful is looking promising, as Will has mentioned. Can't wait to get started on it actually, but before that we have his Morphic Resonance book to finish, which hopefully will look rather nice. It feels good to be designing around a self-initiated project as a group, and physically moving around bits of paper to make a book. Simple pleasures.
One website mention here. I only just got round to having a proper look at Modele Puissance's work. Lots to see. Bon choses.
To finish, I wanted to put up a short text I wrote. I used this as a basis for the work I put in our Heavy Bones show at Analogue in Edinburgh, and if I can't make any better ones I may publish this as an illustrated book at some point. but for anyone who saw the work in the show, it's from this...
The Damming (of the Beard River)
After they had eaten their fill and
After they had danced and
After their swollen bellies were quiet,
They took out their knives
And every barber was sent for.
They came with clippers, scissors and pomade,
And turkish razors with steely blades.
And proceeded to shave.
The forest howled and moaned,
The wind chimes in the trees played atonal sounds
The Beard River crashed and thundered.
And then the wind rushed in
And displaced the barbers' slicked-back hair.
Blew down the trees,
Ripped off the leaves,
And tore the houses
From their eaves...
And In the confusion they shaved themselves
And woke up bare.