“THE MYSTERIOUS MASTER, HIS DISQUISITIONS, HIS INDISCIPLINED DISCIPLES AND THEIR DELUSIONAL DIZZY MISSION,” performance and installation, found objects, 2013

The literati sat under trees, the resin of which made even their hair sticky with wisdom, or so we see fit to believe. Through the lineages of sticky-haired disciples, these disciples became teachers and in turn taught their disciples, continuing the cycle, though sometimes they changed their minds and ran away in a frantic rush. They sat under more trees, dipped their brushes in ink, and caressed their long beards pensively. They grew their nails, and on and on for centuries of weeks, all the way to this gallery and the resin on its concrete floor, truth was passed to us. We now hold our elbows in the palm of our hands and speculate on its value for a few minutes.

As with previous work, my interest lies in forms of communication and their shortcomings, on the way particles of truth are shed and lost as this is passed from one another and from here to there and back, and on how truth is not a chair and if we try to sit on it we’ll just fall onto our ass on a merciless floor.

 
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