To eat and to be eaten



“One is inside / then outside what one has been inside

One feels empty / because there is nothing inside oneself”


“One tries to get inside oneself / that inside of the outside / that one was once inside / once one tries to get oneself inside what one is outside: to eat and to be eaten

to have the outside inside and to be / inside the outside”


“But this is not enough.

(Text by R.D. Laing)”


New little lepporello book: letterpress, typewriter, Polaroids, thread.  I was thinking about John Baldessari when I made those Polaroids.

To eat and to be eaten

And now


“I hope your future ventures come through. It’s exciting yet equally annoying how anxious and irritable we can feel about this awesome future that we don’t know about yet.”


Wishing all good things to all you guys.

(I’m feeling thankful for the supportive people around me. I’m also weaving the carrot Polaroids, maybe to put in a book.)

And now

Carrot polaroids, temporal considerations

Lately I’ve been making a lot of artwork that takes a long time (embroideries? linoleum cuts of drawings of string? books? the giant woodcut that I haven’t started yet?).  I like this kind of work because it provides a certain kind of depth and gravity to it; you can tell that it took a long time to make and this makes it feel more significant, no matter how physically small or how banal the subject matter.  It becomes a property of the work as much as material and content.

That said, I also like to take Polaroids.  The immediate gratification instant film provides is rewarding and it provides a balance to the more time-intensive work.  Not only does it feels good to finish something, it will give more variety to the body of work as a whole.  I’m thinking that I will put some of these in a little book, and frame the others to see which is more effective.

Hmm.  I’m feeling verbose today.  Hope you’re having a lovely Sunday.  xoxo

Carrot polaroids, temporal considerations