I think we (the artists here) feel much has been achieved, yet our uncertainties remain. Each of us have an audience in mind, an audience that will never be the one we thought existed. We are jumping at shadows of our own invention.
The space we work in is the revelation. The people of the local area, their stories, their desire to engage with us (and us with them) is what reduces the distance between people.
The artists continue on. Scott nearly ruined his mobile phone in the shower as he videod himself in the shower for 30 min (he didn’t realize his phone was in his suit pocket)…You can actually watch it here.
Sarah has been reminded again why she doesn’t particularly like working with video, yet she’s producing a haunting and affecting video clip. Clytie is in the process of arranging a landscape of fantastic and outrageous objects tied to words that tug and mislead. Is mislead the right word? I’m not sure, find out for yourself. Julie continues to climb the walls and feel the walls. Her hands seek something, her restlessness is assuring, if not for her then me. She probes her room. I like that.
Vic is Vic, doing the rounds, putting his ear to odd lines against metal and wind, the roof and the rain. He does his rounds between other duties, knows that a smile takes us artists a long way. He is with us all the way…like John and Sandra, our hotel hosts and willing collaborators….
Me? I spent an afternoon in the dreams of mythical travelling salesmen. I put my hand upon their pulse, watched sprinklers circle slowly in their dying front yards and looked for their dreams in rooms full of…ummm, I’m not yet sure, and may never be. Perhaps that’s why I love hotel rooms so much. I reckon the only place with a higher occupancy rate than motels are prisons. And who wants to end up in one of those?