Tea, Toast & Post

Everyone needs Tea, Toast & Post. Image: Robin Hood’s Bay Heritage Village 54.4345°N 0.5344°W, Nr.Whitby and within North Yorkshire National Park © Denise Startin 2015

Everyone
who has experienced their personal life
or working life
or career
or artistic practice slide into a black hole
or has suffered
or has suffered an allergic reaction to…
or has suffered rejection from..
or fears..
or fears failure
or fears failure when it should be embraced
or dares…
or dares to hope
or dares to hope and dream
or dares to hope and dream and feel
or dares to hope and dream and feel and make
or everyone who has loved
or everyone who has loved and lost
Everyone should read this letter

Thank you Sol LeWitt, I love to you

“Dear Eva

It will be almost a month since you wrote to me and you have possibly forgotten your state of mind (I doubt it though). You seem the same as always, and being you, hate every minute of it. Don’t! Learn to say “F**k You” to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping, confusing, itchin, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, numbling, rumbling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eyeing, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding, grinding, grinding away at yourself.

Stop it and just DO!

From your description, and from what I know of your previous work and you [sic] ability; the work you are doing sounds very good “Drawing-clean-clear but crazy like machines, larger and bolder… real nonsense.” That sounds fine, wonderful – real nonsense. Do more. More nonsensical, more crazy, more machines, more breasts, penises, c**ts, whatever – make them abound with nonsense. Try and tickle something inside you, your “weird humor.” You belong in the most secret part of you. Don’t worry about cool, make your own uncool.

Make your own, your own world. If you fear, make it work for you – draw & paint your fear and anxiety. And stop worrying about big, deep things such as “to decide on a purpose and way of life, a consistant [sic] approach to even some impossible end or even an imagined end.” You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to DO! I have much confidence in you and even though you are tormenting yourself, the work you do is very good. Try to do some BAD work – the worst you can think of and see what happens but mainly relax and let everything go to hell – you are not responsible for the world – you are only responsible for your work – so DO IT. And don’t think that your work has to conform to any preconceived form, idea or flavor. It can be anything you want it to be.

But if life would be easier for you if you stopped working – then stop. Don’t punish yourself. However, I think that it is so deeply engrained in you that it would be easier to DO! It seems I do understand your attitude somewhat, anyway, because I go through a similar process every so often. I have an “Agonizing Reappraisal” of my work and change everything as much as possible = and hate everything I’ve done, and try to do something entirely different and better. Maybe that kind of process is necessary to me, pushing me on and on. The feeling that I can do better than that shit I just did. Maybe you need your agony to accomplish what you do. And maybe it goads you on to do better. But it is very painful I know. It would be better if you had the confidence just to do the stuff and not even think about it. Can’t you leave the “world” and “ART” alone and also quit fondling your ego.

I know that you (or anyone) can only work so much and the rest of the time you are left with your thoughts. But when you work or before your work you have to empty your mind and concentrate on what you are doing. After you do something it is done and that’s that. After a while you can see some are better than others but also you can see what direction you are going. I’m sure you know all that. You also must know that you don’t have to justify your work – not even to yourself. Well, you know I admire your work greatly and can’t understand why you are so bothered by it. But you can see the next ones and I can’t. You also must believe in your ability. I think you do. So try the most outrageous things you can – shock yourself.

You have at your power the ability to do anything […]

Much love to you both Sol”

Text reproduced from https://href.li/?http://jwvpk.wordpress.com/2009/03/10/letter-from-sol-lewitt-to-eva-hesse/#comment-288

F.E.A.R = False Evidence Appearing Real

Untitled © Denise Startin

Untitled © Denise Startin

“I MUST NOT FEAR. FEAR IS THE MIND KILLER.
FEAR IS THE LITTLE-DEATH THAT BRINGS TOTAL OBLITERATION.

– I WILL FACE MY FEAR.

I WILL PERMIT IT TO PASS OVER AND THROUGH ME.
AND WHEN IT IS GONE I WILL TURN THE INNER EYE TO SEE ITS PATH.
WHERE THE FEAR HAS GONE THERE WILL BE NOTHING.

ONLY I WILL REMAIN.”

FRANK HERBERT – DUNE

The Chamber of Silence

01

Separation

Untitled © Denise Startin

“I can only find myself as far as I regard myself as a diapason-subject, as a living tuning fork that must be held right in front of a loud speaker in order to detect a possible resonance. The world as soul opens itself according to a place: a movement is needed to find the position that renews me. The soul and the world are always one, and always new. (If indeed they are there).

For often there are dead spots

Every sound body has them […] those places on the neck of a guitar that will not resonate to the vibrations of the strings – places where, locally, resonance will be forever extinguished. Similarly there are zones in my body that are irresponsive to the music out there – occasionally this concerns my whole body. Outside of resonance my body is a mere object, a mass, a cadaver. It is world-less, place-less, and merely an object in homogenous space. A thing among things, it is then like a heart that has stopped bleeding, a resonance that has been extinguished, an interval that has imploded, or a syncope that has left it’s orbit…”

Cont’d: An absent presence the body (anaesthetized) and the subject (evacuated) are trave[ai]lling on a continuum from the ecstatic to the forensic subject, a euphoric memory fettered, crippled, occasioned by the touch of death.

Quoted text reproduced from Lyrical Bodies: Music and the Extension of the Soul by Sander van Maas, quoted in Chrono-Topologies: Hybrid Spatialities and Multiple Temporalities, Ed. Leslie Kavanaugh, 2010, p.160.