Materials: on-site rubble, string, newsprint-type paper, pen
1/7/06, 5th and Pierce St., Phoenix, AZ
short description:
This is the first in a series of on-site performances and pieces using located sites of rubble and current processes of thought.
After locating an accessible site I gather rubble and write current thoughts onto pieces of paper that are then tied to the rubble and used to create a pile. Each piece of paper has string tied to it with large knots at each end. The pile of rubble becomes the disjointed thoughts and impressions tied to them.
The pile is left behind, inevitably to be knocked down, thrown away or dispersed.
long description:
The area i live in is constantly being torn apart and rebuilt to create a vision of what planners believe the city of Phoenix should be. The constant state of flux, rebuilding, renewal and decisions about importance of the past seems to run parallel to how people process change and needs in our lives.
There is always a change occurring in our minds of how we see our life to be, what we want it to be, what we find painful from the past, what we find useful etc. Coherent connected thoughts from 10 years ago become scattered fragments that are processed with current impressions and evaluations of the state our lives are in. We connect to our past and utilize pieces to rebuild a doctrine that we can personally abide by and believe in. This helps give meaning and direction to our actions and behavior. It helps justify how we react to others and gives meaning to the course of living we're on. Without this formulation, life seems empty and without meaning. It is only through reflection, gathering the scattered bits and rearranging it into a temporary stable structure, that helps make each day sensible and meaningful. But the momentary organization isn't meant to last since it only holds value for immediate needs. In the future, parts of our logic will be broken down and used in fragments again. The identity of the city, and ourselves, will constantly be in a state of change. |