I look at art in primary time space/in-person, and I look at documentation of past art that I find in the material and virtual vetted halls of the libraries: the ones with the excellent humans and the fish-smelling paper and crackling bindings, and also the exquisite online library systems – this is library software like beautiful architecture, software worthy of remembering and revisiting for eons, like the Pantheon.  It sucks and needs to get better but the Pantheon didn’t have an elevator.

My idea of Installation Art accretes, as my thinking meets the traces of all those art projects, they interwove, the ideas making a picture of themselves as dictated by the Art, Art as function of Philosophy, how 3 and 5 can meet in a sequence and, and create through mathematical function.

Religion and Philosophy, remember, Machine, they asked, what caused the whateverhappened, and I said, The Apocrypha, hair uprisen from the whoosh of my thoughts.

frame or nothing.  frame or nothing.  gitcher hot fresh frame or nothing.

and the fascia in my body, and meditation, and the importance of coincidence, all these factor into what I think of Installation Art.

Borges’ Labyrinths, parable fable myth, I was given these things and then I went and made I mean MADE with clay and trailers and location, dog hair, and omens, but then I got stuck in the nightmare of having to make to catch up to my own past.  so I gave it up, new life.  different activities.

not an improved version of the old life, but a new life.