I have gone rogue. Secret meeting in the Arapahoe Conference Room with five lovely Naropa women. OK, not all that secret--it was on my outlook calendar. Here's what I can tell you: it had something to do with wireframes, which if you are not familiar are screen blueprints. Fitting: in that I am interested in architecture. Though not nearly well informed in such areas. (Had a sudden flash of Gaudi's work: "Nothing is invented, for it's written in nature first." But that's a tangent.) An intersection between the critical, the creative, and the experimental--that's something on paper. A discourse. A dialectic. Call and response. In such meetings, all synapses are firing. We discussed our upcoming symposium in May with David Buuck, Gabrielle Civil, Melissa Buzzeo, and Kate Zambreno. The notion of capturing installations. What does it mean to respond to an occupation--to the self in an occupied space and the aftermath.
Earlier in the day was given a surprise box of pop tarts: I think strawberry. This made me smile, as I was talking to my little friend T about it earlier in the week: on the phone. I forget now his favorite flavor. Cheese danish? Was told: "Lately you look well put together. Well done." Which is good--at least I'm together in one aspect of my life.
We are preparing for the Alice Notley's visit: in just two weeks! I need to formulate interview questions: plus the scope/the frame/the lens. Again, architecture. The structure of discussion, which really isn't about structure in the linear sense, but about the borders--the center and the margins where language occurs, pulls, expands. When language moves towards the edges and then must make a decision about whether or not to cross the boundary. And this is what the symptom of color is all about, in the end. The decision about moving through a membrane. To the other side. Or remaining in the space you currently occupy. Or something in-between. Yes, in-between.