Saturday, March 20, 2010
Miraslaw Balka: How It Is
Walking into the familiar turbine hall at Tate Modern, London, visitors are recently greeted by what appears to be an impressively large (yet not imposing - perhaps due to its 5 ft elevation from the ground) shipping container. Quite simply, the latest cross-genre minimalist-installation-sculpture by Polish artist Miraslaw Balka is designed to fit into its surrounding seamlessly and craftily.
However, walking up the ramp that leads into the dark abyss is simply magical. Greeted with your own fears, the moment when you reach out in front of you to mind your step - only to find that you can't see your hands in front of your face - is the moment that you understand the darkness in Balka's How It Is.
Mesmerising and poignant, the exciting venture into the unknown makes you appreciate what you can see in your life, and what there is to be unseen. This being said, the installation is not about blindness, but perhaps taking from granted everything you understand to be rational and explanatory in your own life. Furthermore, it is only when you are placed in an environment where everyone is blind, that you can bump into a complete stranger and share a special moment of apologetic sympathy and do nothing but laugh and move on. An experience shared.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
The Truth About You
For a special person.
The Truth About You
She looks when you’re not looking
And she talks when you’re not there
She whispers in a silent ear
And all she writes is LOL
She’s got that way of telling you
The way she never feels
But when you go and hold her hand
You know it must be real.
‘Cause it’s the way she never tells you
It’s the way you never knew
It’s the truth behind the touches
It’s the fact that I know you.
It’s a truth its not suspicion
It’s a fact its not just talk
And I never thought I’d feel this
‘till the day that I met you.
You think they’ll never know you
Like I never knew you too,
But now that I have met you,
All I think about is you.
22:46, 7th March 2010.
Soon to be a song
The Truth About You
She looks when you’re not looking
And she talks when you’re not there
She whispers in a silent ear
And all she writes is LOL
She’s got that way of telling you
The way she never feels
But when you go and hold her hand
You know it must be real.
‘Cause it’s the way she never tells you
It’s the way you never knew
It’s the truth behind the touches
It’s the fact that I know you.
It’s a truth its not suspicion
It’s a fact its not just talk
And I never thought I’d feel this
‘till the day that I met you.
You think they’ll never know you
Like I never knew you too,
But now that I have met you,
All I think about is you.
22:46, 7th March 2010.
Soon to be a song
Purple Haze / Midnight Lust
Purple Haze / Midnight Lust
Stare at the peacock
Feather in the dust
-A purple haze of starlight,
A shuddering of lust.
Stargazers, feather-blowers,
Pillows from a dove.
Held your hand for evermore
I think this must be love.
7th March 2010, 2:05am
Stare at the peacock
Feather in the dust
-A purple haze of starlight,
A shuddering of lust.
Stargazers, feather-blowers,
Pillows from a dove.
Held your hand for evermore
I think this must be love.
7th March 2010, 2:05am
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