it's time for a little sprinkle....

Something astonishing occurred to me whilst watching the latest episode (21) of  The Arts Show. Broadcast from the new temporary home of The Turner Prize at an ex-army base in Derry, Ireland they had gathered some in the know art people to banter about their opinions on contemporary art and, if this year there was more of a feeling of 'inclusion'.

What made me so astonished though was the indirect comments of Grayson Perry (artist of ceramic urns with many a symbolically mood enhancing tale to tell) about the art scene today and how he would like more "internecine spats" between the different kinds of "tribes inside the contemporary art world". Very good, I think Jackson Pollock had the same idea.

So how does this relate to my point of place? Cornwall...lets start with Time and Change (caps are self evident) and the weight of dragging behind. Does the creative community give society a snapshot of a particular moment that is vital to expose about Cornwall? Where is the present, the now, the happening? How can Cornwall be declarative if it's voice is controlled by people of rooted institutions and with no branches to spare for new shoots. I look at the landscape around me and feel like it has given up waiting for communities to change and for it to be noted and expressed, it is taking its own course and evolving, but yawning all the same. How many more angles of boat, beach, bird, sea and surfer do artists need to commoditize the relevance of Cornwall's usage. I'm convinced that amongst the 'people' there are people who want to race against the herds and propel Cornwall into a new era of creative enterprise....but it would take one hell of a hefty shoulder.

Perry wisely observes the relevance of stand out artists who create work that "can be used as pixie dust to sprinkle on places which are wanting regeneration". These cultural movements into the now  can gain a healthy amount of interest and investment in the people and the place - look at Hull a proud City of Culture winner that will be showing off its stuff in 2017.

Too many moments are poorly supported and woefully unattended in Cornwall - even after months and months of advertising. I'm not suggesting that with the traditions that have long been held and tended to are not still receiving there rites of passage through the new generations - far from it, without these any other radical contributions would look exposed for what they are 'different', unnecessary; 'other'.

It is a tranquil place for the tussled urban artist to display their wares for a month or two, the unique light softening the harsh edges of the raw contemporary emotion of new. Art work often looks so much older in Tate St Ives, relic like and attic found. Nice.

My heart rarely beats to the rhythm of the new age we live in, the future seems to be a dark space with nothing hanging. Dribs and drabs that creep in and creep back out - no big explosions in this county. Can someone else start on a form of sculpture that can make the head reel with the sensuality of shape and texture (Damien Hirst's 'Verity', but Devon) or write a poem that expresses the image of a town going around in hopeless circles....I am here.....or a painting that announces that the sea is drained and off on its own holiday.

Just something outstanding - arm stretched out sprinkling the sparkles - Different.....

A mid-life chapter........

I'm now eight weeks into my third year of this English Degree. How am I progressing? Well that is in the hands of my new lecturers (I've submitted my first two essays). But that's not what I want to discuss here....

I have become increasingly aware that changes are happening in my thinking, learning and formulating capacity - almost as if I have reverted back to being on the brink of infant absorption. The mighty hold of literature is not barring my way; new forms and revisions of  theories are on the boil. I am a melting pot of ideas. So what is this development and how can it be happening so late in my life. One conclusion is that the more I write the more I understand the motivation of language, it is taking me along with it, we are strolling and talking. At curfew I'm led back to where words dwell and I settle in with the pages to read, redundant of any further input from my own expression. This revision is a whole new cognitive structure and I do not believe that I'm loosing any of my 'little grey cells', quite the contrary, I'm growing them.....

Could this be possible? I'm positive that this process is not an expansion of anything I learnt in the past, rather: it is not a treasure trove of buried repressed intellect in my subconscious. I wonder if this is a reserve of brain matter that is lying dormant for precisely this period in my life; if not used it will simply dissolve.

To read of other writers that connect threads through fiction and theories is a huge stimulant. I also strongly believe that if you don't agree with their thesis then change tack....make your own coherent argument. It is never enough to just disagree, or lamely complain. Ideas are orbs that float inside the mind, firing and fading - so one has to be quick. Our conceptual systems are like shutters on a camera (the very old ones anyway) the greatest of ideas can momentarily feel like there on a long exposure, the orbs stretching like tentacles. And like any beautifully figured equation the points need to be joined and patterns formed.

I am formulating a new idea, connective threads are waving and it is very exciting. My central word is ideology.....I'm willing to except that this concept in practise is still valuable, however the world is ever more idiosyncratic and our social behaviours are breaking down to such an extent that to generalise on structured formula's that we abide to might be too simplistic. We are still drifting in a post-modern phenomena - but it feels over extended. The consequences that build on a daily basis due to societies actions and the institutions in power need to be acquainted to new terms: obviously these ideologies are not functioning as well as humanity would like. I would like to see a new system which configures what influences the world today, but not to harmfully disrupt the previous set pattern of organised ideals as these are long formed and complex.

This is a long term diversion, firstly I must find a way to write about D. H. Lawrence which actually seems a far less daunting task now I'm reading Ulysses. Why does Molly Bloom remind me of Elsie Tanner so much? Better get the pan on.....