The hands are scrabbling
The earth is turning
The tide is rising
Constantly forging onwards; seeking
The Sun, casting its glorious rays; disappearing
Under the Pier, a creature lives; decaying
At the end of the Land; the Sea
There is an inside and an outside, a dark interior and a light exterior. Under the skin, in the body, much is fluid. This is where the unconscious is at work, digesting and processing and merging and separating matter.
They were looking for the very beginnings of meaning and making: to connect thousands of years ago with today. They wanted to find it, but when they arrived, they still didn't know what to do.
In the depths of the sky, there were no mirrors, and in place of the sun a great bleeding hole gaped where perhaps a molar had been wrenched out. The sea had probably emptied, leaving the hollow of its basin rimmed by a dizzy precipice. The earth itself had disappeared, had ceased to be solid.
Le Clezio, J.M.G., The Book of Flights.
Eleanor Clare and Dillan Marsh live in Bergen, and have been producing works together since 2013, a collaboration which began as an investigation into how making artwork and writing can mutually influence one another in the understanding of meaning, development of form and structure. Clare received MA Fine Art from Central Saint Martins in 2011, and Marsh MA Visual Art from Bergen Academy of Art and Design, 2011. They have produced collaborative work for the following organisations: Parabol Bergen, Assembly House Leeds, Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop, Yorkshire Sculpture Park, ASC Gallery London, Deuxpiece/Buro fur Problem Basel and Apis Press Bergen.
Research and development has been supported by Yorkshire Sculpture Park, Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop, Assembly House Leeds, Metal Arts, Bergen Kommune and Norwegian Arts Council.
Archipelago is a small, flexible platform for showing individual works and installations in a focused but open environment. Located on the ground floor of Hordaland kunstsenter, adjacent to a larger, more formal exhibition space, archipelago works with the constraint of limited physical space in order to explore the changing modalities of artworks in the age of virtual space. Archipelago is programmed with short lead times for each new project, with the intention of reinserting curatorial agility and real-time engagement into the institution. This initiative follows a different schedule to Hordaland kunstsenter's main exhibition programme, and is conceived as a group of 'thought islands' appearing in time.
Stadig å fortsette framover; å søke etter
Solen, som slynger sine slående stråler; som forsvinner
Under Brygga, et vesen lever; forråtner
Ved enden av Landet; Sjøen
Det finnes en innside og en utside, et mørkt indre og et lyst ytre. Under huden, inni kroppen, er mye flytende. Dette er stedet hvor det underbevisste virker, fordøyer og prosesserer og samler og skiller substanser.
De lette etter selve begynnelsene av mening og skapelse: for å sammenføye tusener av år tilbake med idag. De ville finne det, men da de ankom, visste de fortsatt ikke hva de skulle gjøre.
I dypene av himmelen fantes ingen speil, og i solens sted gapte et stort blødende hull der kanskje en jeksel hadde blitt vridd ut. Sjøen hadde sannsynligvis blitt tømt, og etterlot seg hulrommet av sin beholder omsluttet av et svimlende stup. Kloden selv hadde forsvunnet, hadde opphørt å være solid.
– Le Clezio, J.M.G., The Book of Flights.
Eleanor Clare og Dillan Marsh bor i Bergen, og har lagd arbeider sammen siden 2013, et samarbeid som begynte som en utforskning av hvordan det å lage kunstverk og å skrive gjensidig kan påvirke hverandre i å forstå mening og utviklingen av form og struktur. Clare har en mastergrad i kunst fra Central Saint Martins, London (2011), og Marsh en mastergrad fra Kunst- og designhøgskolen i Bergen (2011). Sammen har de produsert verk for følgende aktører: Parabol Bergen, Assembly House Leeds, Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop, Yorkshire Sculpture Park, ASC Gallery London, Deuxpiece/Büro für Problem Basel og Apis Press Bergen.
Prosjektet er støttet av Yorkshire Sculpture Park, Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop, Assembly House Leeds, Metal Arts, Bergen Kommune og Norsk Kulturråd.
www.fossilsandstars.blogspot.no
Archipelago er et lite, fleksibelt visningsrom for å vise enkeltverk og installasjoner i et fokusert, men åpent miljø. Siden rommet ligger i førsteetasje på Hordaland kunstsenter, like ved siden av et større, mer formelt utstillingsrom, åpner Archipelago opp for å undersøke de skiftende egenskapene ved et kunstverk med begrensningene av et lite, fysisk rom, i en tidsalder med virtuelle rom.
Programmet til Archipelago planlegges kort tid i forveien for hvert nye prosjekt, med den hensikt å gjeninnsette kuratorisk smidighet og nåtidig engasjement i institusjonen. Disse utstillingene følger en annen tidsplan enn Hordaland kunstsenters hovedprogram for utstillinger, og er tenkt som en gruppe av «tenkeøyer» som oppstår i tiden.
St Joseph sleeping and a prayer for work 2015-08-14
Pray to which patron saint for work?
Can any of you steer me in the right direction?
St. Joseph.
Yeah, St. Joseph the worker.
St. Joseph the Worker-----but there are patron saints for all kinds of work---what kind of work are you looking for? I was a lab tech & the patron of lab techs is st. albert
Hey,
We have exchanged posts before so I feel like I know you. Can I be honest with you?
This is what I have learned. I went from $60,000 a year, got laid off and now I am a bagboy at the grocery store. Happens to lots of people. After a year of struggle and prayer I discovered the Bible says "be as wise as a serpent and as harmless as a dove". In other words, God expects you and me use our own wisdom and knowledge to make our way in the world. The Bible also says "work out your salvation in fear and trembling". To me it also means "work out your career in fear and trembling." St Paul says there is profit to be made in any career, so not to worry.
Prayer to St Joeseph is wonderful and worthwhile and Jesus may respond to you thru St Joeseph. But don't ever stop trying as hard as you can using you God given skills.
This too will pass. Good luck
St. Cajetan whose feast we just celebrated August 7th is considered a patron saint of job seekers. we use him at work as the patron saint of our Human Resources department.
St. Joseph is a great intercessor, and so many more...St Rita, St. Jude, St Anthony, St. Theresa, St Padre Pio, all have been known to help out in difficult situations. St. Anthony may be the Saint of missing things, but he is also well know for performing miracles through Jesus for near anything. And the very best thing you can do for yourself? Eucharistic Adoration and stay close to the sacraments. If you find you have some extra time, seek out daily mass.
God Bless you and give you relief soon.
Take a look at your biggest need in your life right now=--and pray to God he might lead you to the patron saint for you. HE will. Look at the Catholic Bookstore, and you'll undoubtedly find them! It sure worked for me----and totally coincidentally my patron saint that I found after prayer--turns out has my same birthday as her feast day--unbelievable! God surely works in miraculous ways friend~~
ST. Anthony has helped with many lost things, even lost jobs (lay off, union problems) and lost computer files. He got so fed up with me bugging him I think he appointed a special angel to keep track of my keys. But in all the years I have relied on him, I am not sure if I am praying to St. Anthony of Egypt or Padua. One was a hermit, one was a Franciscan. Seeker, St. Jude truly is the one to turn to when things seem totally hopeless.
I got laid off 3 years ago and haven't been able to find permanent work since. Salaried jobs, or "adult jobs" as I call them, I've had no luck finding, especially as I have a very peculiar set of skills and am useless and uninterested in anything else. And I really have no desire to change fields, especially since there's very little I'm good at.
But the "teenager jobs," the dead-end, low-wage, hourly jobs that I've wasted most of my life doing, won't hire me either. They say I'm overqualified and overeducated, that they know I'd be bored by the work and would leave the minute I found something better. All that IS true, but nevertheless....
I have no credit because I've always paid for things in cash. The only thing that's kept me off the streets is help from my mom, and even she is running out of money now. Plus I feel like less than a man having to get parental support at the age of 40. At least I don't have a wife or kids to support.
This spring my apartment complex burned in the second-worst fire in my city's history, and though my apartment was spared even smoke or water damage, I had to make an expensive move elsewhere in town.
The on-going problem has made me a ball of stress. Friends and relatives keep their distance because I'm so depressing to be around. This problem has taken a major toll on my physical and mental health. Medication hasn't really helped, and now my doctor tells me he wants me to get an MRI this week. Obviously, with no insurance, a procedure like this costing thousands is gonna be a killer.
And yes, I've tried every conceivable method of finding work, including many techniques you'd not have heard of. I've pretty much given up hope of finding anything, at least that will pay me adequately. And at the age of 40 I am painfully aware of how much time has been wasted and how little time I have left. It just seems a crime I can't exercise the talents God has so graciously granted me.
Sorry to be such a whiner.
I can appreciate the way you feel because I've been through something very similar myself. After I went back to school to qualify for the field where I always wanted to work, I was unable to find a full-time job in it and settled for something else. While I have a decent job now in a related area, it's still not my vocation and I would gladly give it up tomorrow if I won the Powerball. Therefore, one valuable thing I've learned is to look at my job as a means of survival & not what defines me as a person - we Americans have a really skewed attitude in this respect. I've learned from my friends & family in Italy, who look at work as something that needs to be done to eat & pay bills and not the sum & substance of one's existence. It helps...
As for a patron saint, I can only add St. Joseph. I know there's another specifically for people seeking employment but I can't name him or her offhand. I also prayed to St. Jude when I was feeling really frustrated with myself. Be patient and things will get better
Pray to your father in heaven and have faith that a certain job is yours. Read all of Hebrews 11.
thanks
Thanks to everyone for the encouragement. Maybe we can all pray for each other.
He would lie in wait for monks grown weary with working in the oppressive heat, seizing a moment of weakness to force an entrance into their hearts. And once installed there, what havoc he wrought! For suddenly it would seem to the poor victim that the day was intolerably long and life desolatingly empty. He would go to the door of his cell and look up at the sun and ask himself if a new Joshua had arrested it midway up the heavens. Then he would go back into the shade and wonder what good he was doing in that cell or if there was any object in existence. Then he would look at the sun again and find it indubitably stationary, and the hour of the communal repast of the evening as remote as ever. And he would go back to his meditations, to sink, sink through disgust and lassitude into the black depths of despair and hopeless unbelief. When that happened the demon smiled and took his departure, conscious that he had done a good morning’s work.
The trade of chemist (fortified, in my case, by the experience of Auschwitz) teaches you to overcome , indeed to ignore, certain revulsions that are neither necessary or congenital: matter is matter, neither noble nor vile, infinitely transformable, and its proximate origin is of no importance whatsoever. Nitrogen is nitrogen, it passes miraculously from the air into plants, from these into animals, and from animals to us; when its function in our body is exhausted, we eliminate it, but it still remains nitrogen, aseptic, innocent.
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table, translated by Raymond Rosenthal
- collage with Francois Hugo dans son atelier and a stamp from the Album Nestle, Series 22
- role playing dice with the numbers removed and in the forms of the 5 Platonic Solids
- collage with Bulgari advertisement Eternal Values and bookmark with Vanitas by Jan van Huysum
- RUSH, Yikes and Power Promotions (1992) on a small white stool
- Collage with Odyssey, a Journey into Dance and postcard Urnascher Sylvesterchause
- Trophy, marble base, universal imperial spanner and chocolate wrapper
- Tomorrow is Born, Acidica Productions (Shepton Mallet, 1992)
- postcard of Arosa 1800m, Innerarosa, Alpentobel, Erzhorn
- digital machine timer Red Lion 202/95EC (counting the time in milliseconds)
- NEW AGE (Milton Keynes)
- a toy Halloween pumpkin
- mono-print on paper Mayhem in 1990 printed with an empty black ink cartridge
"fire, […] in the history of the medieval trail by ordeal, is a basic technology of truth. Burned, things of the world reveal their essential nature. The scriptural basis for this notion is iffy (Lot surviving the flames of Sodom? Moses' encounter with the burning bush?). The physics of the proposition, however, proves to be spot-on: everything that burns speaks with tongues of flame that cannot lie. This is called spectroscopy."
Fire and Truth, D. Graham Burnett, Issue 32, Winter 2008, Cabinet
Ivan Gutierrez, a 37-year-old artist who lives in the nearby village, stood before the pyramid and blew a low, sonorous blast on a conch horn. "It has already arrived, we are already in it" he said of the new era. "We are in a frequency of love, we are in a new vibration."
As he rides his chariot, he shines upon men and deathless gods, and piercingly he gazes
with his eyes from his golden helmet. Bright rays beam dazzlingly from him, and his
bright locks streaming from the temples of his head gracefully enclose his far-seen face: a rich,
fine-spun garment glows upon his body and flutters in the wind: and stallions carry him.
Then, when he has stayed his golden-yoked chariot and horses, he rests there upon the
highest point of heaven, until he marvellously drives them down again through heaven to Okeanos."
I lived to dance all night. A surging energy created a new and unprecedented confidence:
that it was possible to cheat time. I felt invincible - transcendent. Life was light, without fear
of death; at least not in this state of being. I sensed in my body vibrations of sound.
The closer I got to the source, the more it enveloped me, becoming a physical entwinement with
music and space. I felt one with it. But as the years passed, inevitably my heart began to
beat out of time. The breath did not come so easily. I held it at the top for a few seconds,
afraid to exhale. In these moments, the perceived syncopation that was once such a joy had
started to become a dissonance.
*
I feel alive, and the world - it's turning inside out Yeah!
I'm floating around in ecstasy
So don't stop me now,
I'm a shooting star leaping through the skies
Like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity
I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva
I'm gonna go! go! go!
There's no stopping me!
I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars
On a collision course
I am a satellite, I'm out of control
I am a sex machine ready to reload
Like an atom bomb about to
Oh -oh-oh-oh-oh explode!
(Extracts from 'Don't Stop Me Now' lyrics by Freddie Mercury, 1978)
Through the grainy unsteady image and the sound, distorted by low quality compression, it
seems like something is trying to break through. The first few seconds sound like noise
pulled through a synthesizer, screaming and kicking as it emerges, fighting for life in its new
digital form. Something about it is alarming, frightening, tortured and angry. It is half-formed,
raw and unrefined. Streaks of red and white light flash across the screen.
It is an arena for action. Something about this situation that is chaotic; yet there is an
element of control. The driver makes tight circles around a central axis. At first this is
demarcated by a traffic cone, but as things proceed, the silhouette of a young man moves into the
centre. The car stops and revs up, creating billows of smoke in the air, obliterating vision for
a few moments. As the car skids and screeches, I feel a sense of alarm. This is coming close to
disaster for the lone, central figure, potential victim of the anonymous driver, a sacrifice for
the entertainment of onlookers. I can sense also the collusion. One figure willingly places his
trust in the other. There is a tension between these two.
*
A smoky, fiery object is spinning recklessly. One might say things had spun out of control.
Not quite though; for to completely lose control would mean total destruction. It would mean the
end. It all went up in flames. This is a sudden, intense and short lived burst of energy. More
like a supernova than the sun, and more akin to a meteor careering around a planet, than a planet
orbiting the sun. It was more than this, though. This scene was not simply about objects in space;
it was human. It was a game or a task, perhaps even a ritual.
Although I can identify it as a human activity, shot through with the implications of one's
relationship to another, from my vantage point it also seemed anonymous. In the dark, these
figures could be anyone, totally unrecognisable by the light of day. In this moment they had a
relationship to one another. Certainly for the two central protagonists, it was one of great
significance and trust. At any other time, on any other level, it was unclear. In this sense, the
action had become symbolic. The figures could be understood as archetypes. Ones which, for reasons
I cannot yet identify, I associate with the masculine.
***
In the threat of a loss of control, images had already flooded my mind. I remember as the
helicopters circled in the air above my house one evening in August. I had no idea why it was
happening, but this circling was incessant, the noise repeatedly coming close and fading away,
swelling and receding, but never quite out of my consciousness. It always gives me a slight sense
of unease, the idea of something being under surveillance, coupled with the notion that something
might be wrong. Why this surveillance from such a great height? It is a safe distance for the one
who watches. Then I remembered the destruction that had taken place, just minutes away from my home.
The aerial images of buildings and cars set alight, and rioters surging through the streets, anonymous
from this point of view. London's Burning.
As cosmic man or the personification of the intelligence in the tree of life, the Green Man is
the point at which the truth is manifested in creation, whether as life, light, song, words or
other figurative forms of art. He is the medium through which divine inspiration guides the works
of time in the fullness of space. He is the point of entry of eternity into time. Space is the
medium of sound, and therefore the music of praise.
W. Anderson, Green Man: The Archetype of our Oneness with the Earth.
...
Such circles designate, like the spirals, the paths of entry between worlds, and the pacing or
dancing of such designs in imitation of the journeys of the Gods, offers a perfect explanation of
these structures.
The Avebury henge was not a sculpture in the sense of being a finite, completed object.
Instead, it was brought to completion at the right time by human participation.
M. Dames The Avebury Cycle
...
In the extraordinary madness which periodically invaded Europe from the fourteenth to the
seventeenth century, people danced until they dropped.
At Liege in 1374, after certain possessed folk had come dancing half naked into the town
with garlands on their heads, dancing in the name of St John, we are told that many persons
seemingly sound in mind and body were suddenly possessed by devils and joined the dancers.
Electro-magnetic anomalies, as identified by Ivan Sanderson in the late 1960s, were the impetus for a worldwide reinvestigation of practical whole earth geometry. A source of confusion has been over the location of equally spaced points zig-zagging the globe 36° from the equator. This is not point latitude but rather the angle of incidence with the equator (as shown above).
R. Murray Schafer … the earth forms the body of an instrument across which strings are stretched and are tuned by a divine hand. We must try once again to find the secret of that tuning.”
