A THOUSAND SPONTANEOUS CRASH TESTS BECAUSE:, BEHIND MY TWO BLUES ARE STROBE WITH NO RHYTHM;

RESTLESS, FLASHING DATA COMING AT ME FROM 3 DIMENSIONS, IN ORIGINAL SHAPES EVERY TIME. 

AS THE STAR I HAVE TO ATTEND THEM ALL AT ONCE. CRASH TESTS BECAUSE: 

THE MESSED UP WIRES BEHIND MY TWO BLUES. THIS IS ME FALLING FROM SKY TO CONCRETE.           

THESE ARE SCORES FOR CRASHING. ENJOY THE SOUND OF IT ECHOING BEHIND YOUR MISSING FRONT TEETH.      

STARS ARE FALLING. INTO YOU.  

 

A thousand spontaneous crash tests because: 

UTILITY MARK MY MIND is a multi media installation, centred around a collection of alternative power tools stored in (and besides) an airy, breathing, cabinet. This construction of aluminium and semitransparent polycarbonate is surrounded by a series of reliefs (mark making documents) made from air drying clay and wax. The documents are posing in suspended time, on improvised stretcher bar foundations.  

The installation exhibits a space for mental performance and personal attitude adjustment. Tool as attitude as tool.

The installation exhibits a mission suspended in time: 

UTILITY MARK MY MIND is about how I wish to fall from sky into concrete, to leave my mark - on the world as on my body. On my brain eventually. Touch the world, for it to touch my mind. A thousand spontaneous crash-tests to make me smile. 

 The installation is erected on a reflection into WHY´s, materialised in text and image. The WHY to my urges for crash, to my mark making mission. This reflection begins as a debate on the WHY´s others have presented me with in the past, and continues into spontaneous self-proclaimed more basic WHY’s: like swearing and bruises as a place for zen. From here the personal WHY is tested as a universal one: “And I wonder - whether every fresh, ancient and every future mark is motivated by the same thing. To feel reassured of one´s physical presence in a shared reality. To trust one's own weight and make sure the world notices. And remember. 

 

… Is my why this basic?"  

Sign the sky, touch my busy heart.

 

Regarding marks. (professional self-reflection) About the deep and the heavy. When depth is not measured in volume but intensity, and heaviness not in weight but in distance. When it is all measured in time. As everything always is. I am more interested in stardom than in legacy. And so, I wonder: What happens when you throw punches into the air?  Can one leave a mark in the transparent sky?  And if so, where is the echo stored when I kick underwater. Open ocean.     

Wonder about: Explosive disappearing marks, heart-puncturing transparent gestures. In the sky, underwater. On stage.  

About words, about ideas, about my body moving for pleasure, and about:  what my marks measure in intensity and what they will measure in distance. About what I measure in clay and in power; what I prefer and; about how much you care. 

 

I want to sign the sky. Before an ocean of dilated pupils shapeshifting to H20.