It is inevitable that, even without a conscious desire, we develop relationships with things. Some things become such a part of our daily routine that we are inured to their presence. Some things are no longer of use, so we disregard them. Some things we choose not to deal with. Some things we just don’t recognise as being with. Some things announce themselves and say, take me home. Some things unexpectedly get lodged as a memory. Some things…
Back in March, faced with working from home for a while, I had the urge to make some representations of objects that I seem to have developed quiet relationships with. It is an odd list of items: a couple of buckets, an imaginary pile of breeze-blocks, an Olduvai hand-axe, a jug, some street fencing, a piece of sea-worn concrete, a used balloon, condom, envelope… The list continues, but at its own pace, wild and ungoverned.
Do they form a collection? I suppose that is the thing: they do, now, in the act of representing them.
I am full of doubt, wondering if impulses should be trusted at all, like a fool without reason. Representation tends to hold authority and domination over things, subjugates the object in a reduced form for the purpose of narrative or symbol; reductive nouns and images attach themselves to objects, a shortcutting of our sensory experience of the world. For me, representation was a ‘not seeing’ of things in themselves as a matter of vibration; but perhaps I need to deal with things as they seem to be the measure of us.