After self examination of what we are and where we are going, we have indeed decided to board the train.1 After such a post truth battering of the senses we have endured these past few months it was actually a rather innocuous bit of news that proved too much for the camel and cemented our decision to board, which indeed we are about to do. We did not arrive at this lightly, in fact it is only after a day of mental anguish during which we teetered this way and that, not sure what to do. There was just a feeling that something was about to happen. It reminded me of the television program about a group of involved lawyers featuring the young Margulies2 and a famous scene in which she is driving down a busy city street in a state of shock at the death of a colleague. We watch her as she tries to hold back her welling grief. She looks around at the scenes out the window, each one taking on more significance; some young lovers, an old couple struggling on, a girl singing, some men arguing, beggars begging and with each of these vignettes one senses she is about to break down but she keeps it together, until finally a split second glimpse of a mother who shoots out her arm to stop a child running into the road gets through and snap. The damn bursts.
What happened to us was less dramatic and far less emotionally charged but we went through something similar today, hearing bits and bobs of depressing news, tragic examples of our predicament, almost wanting to find that last straw. We searched the BBC and took what they had on offer; Brexit, BLM, Covid, Borris and Cummings hurting people. We looked at sky news and found the same plus the source. We saw that Trump has insulted war veterans, the police have shot someone in the face, a hurricane moves across the US at 3mph, a wrestler has been executed, Putin has his tanks out again in Belarus, and a million more provocations that could have done for us. Even the soul crushing ridiculousness of the Qanon3 conspiracy barely provoked us, it seemed logical almost, a campaign strategy even, probably commissioned. It went on all day like this but our Margulies moment, the moment that has finally cemented the decision to board the Fuck Off Land train, was a little story I encountered whilst seeking solace in the idrott4 pages (ironically) about Chinese seeds. I cant bear to explain but it buckled the camel and so now we're off.
Stepping on the train, we have closed the door. We are leaning out the window and waving back to the post truth stramash5 on the platform. We are stowing our bags and looking for our seat. The train is empty but we can see the silhouette of the drivers back as he takes us away to Fuck Off Land, but where is that and what will we do there? Simple, we are travelling to the mythical land of L'astaque6 where, like Cezanne, we shall endeavour to spend the rest of the 2020 election psyche war quietly working from nature and reading a selection of good, long books. Look here, we can bravely shelter from the manufactured insanity of the post truth era in our purpose built Dignity Scholarship cubby hole but when we realise that the price for this is stunted Doing then something must give and in the choice between our painting and our loyalty to the five themes of the Dignity Scholarship then it is the painting that must be saved. What this all means for our second season is entirely in your hands but I am duty bound to tell you that from here onward I am embarking on a news blackout, as much is that is possible, with the aim of remaining unaware of the events in the USA, the UK and anywhere else for that matter for the rest of the year. If this spells the end of our residency then so be it but if you are happy for us to continue along this altered course I will be glad to write my entries and discuss the doing and related matters alone, perhaps talk about the reading. The books we refer to by the way are not from the Burrows list7, they are not about the 'alt right' and they do not help us with our themes. We have in our satchel Don Quixote, Infinite Jest, Pale Fire, and if it doesn't prove to close to the bone, Ducks Newburyport. A Tale of Two Cities to keep us right, and we intend to read them simultaneously!8
A momentous day then for our little endeavour and as such it seemed the only thing for it was a self portrait. We put it on in the half light this evening with whatever colour was already on the palette which was not a lot, so the work has a scumbled thin look in many places. It is also shiny due to the medium we used as the turps was out of reach. We set ourselves in more or less life size, plum centre and wearing a blue shirt, black jacket and skin tones dominated by yellow ochre. We have a rather sad, startled, defeated look to us and on the day we have been forced into exile I might be tempted to call this work 'the snowflake' owing to our white whisker surrounds, but that doesn't tell the whole story. We are not necessarily defeated but we have reached a point where it just might be best to walk away.
With a handshake,
John
1 To 'Fuck Off Land', mentioned first in work 39: "The post truth stramash is beginning to be sent to fuck off land, in my mind at least..."
2 Most likely refers to the television production 'The Good Wife' in which Julianna Margulies plays the role of a lawyer.
3 Alt right conspiracy theory.
4 John has used the Swedish word for 'sport'.
5 Scottish word meaning an uproar or row.
6 Southern French town where Cezanne escaped to during the Franco Prussian war of 1870. See also DS 1, Work 8 Snow in Bergby, note 2.
7 Refers to the list of books provided by professor Roger Burrows on the subject of the alt right during John's first season. See DS 1, Work 40, note 9.
8 Likely to mean in rotation rather than at the same time.