Here is a link to a short story by Roberto Bolano, that I read today as part of class at Uni. http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2012/01/23/120123fi_fiction_bolano
It got me thinking about the wideness of everything, of every image, no matter how insignificant or otherwise - and the unspecified narrative of how it came to being. The beauty of an image weather it be a painting or a photograph or drawing is that a human with a life and hates and exhalations and anxieties was behind it. The significance of an image is in that fact that this human deemed this circumstance necessary for documentation weather representational or abstract. It is that which is deemed worthy of this certain solidification that is of utmost importance.
After such a heavy first paragraph I guess I should delve into my arbitrary activities of the past few days. Last night was the opening of Knight Street Art Space with the first exhibition NO SODA, We are not receptacles. I just so happened to have some paintings in the show! I would recommend going to my friend Gonzalo's blog to see photographs - he was also in the show and he made the fountain sculpture.
Today I had my first classes for Honours at Uni and they both went pretty well, from my perspective anyway. My brain is getting into gear again. I'm thinking and reading and researching, a little bit anyway. Here are some photos from my phone from the past few days.