Tag Archives: collage

Random Photo: Found Loplop

rust railbird

A photo a day keeps the Doctor in play. Even if it’s been weeks.

max ernst loplop flees

Max Ernst, Une Semaine de Bonté*

* “A week of goodness”

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Scissor Dance: What fresh Hell, at the Peace Hotel

sd peace hotel iph 1

I originally posted this scissor dance, Peace Hotel*, back in December 2014. But, given the current and ongoing Trumpery, it seems fresh again.

*Peace, as in the INGSOC slogan, WAR IS PEACE. Got it?

Scissor Dance: Ask Not

scissor-dance-ask-not-for-whom

Ask not for whom the scissors dance, they dance for thee.

(The last bearded sea turtle traverses the Sea of Scissors.)

>Scissor DanceCollage cut and pasted the old fashioned way, with scissors, glue, and a stack of old magazines.

Scissor Dance: Monkey Camera

lost found scissor dance 1 crop

>Scissor DanceCollage cut and pasted the old fashioned way, with scissors, glue, and a stack of old magazines.

Scissor Dance: Ain’t No Mountain

aint no mountainAin’t No Mountain High Enough, 2003

As sub-insignificant specks in a vast and indifferent Cosmos, can we afford a sense of proportion?

As artists and thinkers, maybe, maybe not. As living organisms subject to natural selection, a sense of proportion is not a survival trait.

On the other hand, if, as a species rather than as individuals, and if a species were collectively capable of a sense of proportion, it might be a good thing for human culture to acquire that sense. Stretch our collective giraffe neck in an act of Lamarckian cultural evolution, proportionately.

As a species, are we that fluid? Maybe not.

>Scissor DanceCollage cut and pasted the old fashioned way, with scissors, glue, and a stack of old magazines.

Grendel’s Laundry List: Ray and Hannah

lafferty door detail crop luck

Detail of Ray Lafferty’s collaged door, rescued by Warren Brown*

…there isn’t any fiction anymore. There is the lingering smell of fiction in some of the branches of nostalgia. But fiction itself is gone. 

We are now in an unstructured era of post-musical music, post-artistic art, post-fictional fiction and post-experiential experience. We are, partly at least, in a post-conscious world.

Of course some of us have always regarded Utopia as a calamity, but most of you have not.

Ray Lafferty

Revolutionaries do not make revolutions. The revolutionaries are those who know when power is lying in the street and when they can pick it up.

Hannah Arendt

*This is a poor quality image, from a snapshot I took years ago, downloaded via the Wayback Machine from a dead version of the Tent Show. I no longer have the original image, which was on the drive of a computer that got lost.

Progress is a Fallen Angel dragged backward through Time: Scissor Dance Retrospective (4)

Facebook Art Posting Algorithm*, Day Four (Day ThreeDay OneDay Two )

I’ve not quite followed the algorithm instructions, since I’ve not posted 3 images per day for the implied five consecutive days, posting instead when I getaroundtoit, but then one of my favorite things about the Internet is that it is essentially atemporal. Yesterday, a month of Sundays ago, is as fresh as today, seconds ago. Conversation threads stretch out, the sense of interval is erased, events take place in a kind of virtual simultaneity, people troll each other, post memes and articles years old without knowing or noticing dates or recycled material. The Internet never forgets but it gifts the collective of its users with amnesia; we individual workers of the hive mind have no more memory than a termite in its mound. So forget this paragraph and on with the Scissor Dances, which are themselves years old yet new to you:

1–“Coevolution”

coevolution

2–“Philosophical Transactions”

philosophical transactions

3–“The Muse’s Umbrella”

muse umbrella

*Post three sample images of one’s own art per day for five days, as a retrospective of past, not recent, work.