Transmit and receive,
Locate binary sequences,
And set down.
|A collection of deviations I have found for my S.T.A.R.|
I.] YOG + YUG + YIG
I AM THE FIXED AND I AM THE VOLATILE. I AM THE DROWNED, THE BURIED AND THE BURNT. THE FIRST LIGHT AND LASTING DARKNESS. I AM THE SLEEPING YOG AND I AM THE DREAMING YIG. I AM THE ALPHA OF MATTER, THE ODIAN AND THE OMEGA OF TIME, THE OBIAN. I AM THE PRIMAL AND THE APPEX OF SPACE, THE SLEEP WALKING YUG.
II.] THE NEW MOURNING STAR
PROTOENCYCLOPEDIST, CODEXORCIST & LYCANTHROPIC HOUSEKEEPER
III.] I AM ME
Ground is ground, and sky is sky. Devil is Devil, and God is God. There are hierarchies above, and there are hierarchies below. There are starry towers of white fire, and there are chthonic pits of black water. There is a house at the centre, inside out, and there is a house in-between, upside down. In this house, there is a ladder that goes up into the sleeping sky, and in this house, there is a tunnel that goes down into the dreaming ground. Floor is floor, and ceiling is ceiling. God is Devil, and Devil is God. I am me, and me am I.
My work has always served a ritual function in my life and through it, I feel as though I am telling a story. A story that archaeologically uncovers buried systems/codexes, subconscious cartographies, pantheons of my own Gods and demons and heroes, while simultaneously reflecting on the frustrations of mundane existence and my impatience and angst of being unable to construct and maintain a "perfect" kabalistic environment to exist within.
The work is immediate, raw and an attempt to tap into the spiritual animal.
I never care about archival processes or high end materials and supplies. I use what I find in alleyways or can purchase at a local drug store on my walk home in the evening. I attempt to bind and charge these items in order to create talismanic/ mnemonic devices. I try to erase the day to day from my mind and allow a new mythology to surface, even if it is the repetition of a couple of words. For several of years, I assumed an alter ego in order to separate myself from being an art administrator and a practicing artist. His name was Roman Grey and he is now buried beneath the foundation of Last Lodge, the terminal house.
My S.T.A.R., My daughter