Why is it our seasons are such stutterers? Reading back our DS 1 we lurched from one petered out campaign to the next, clinging desperately to the coattails of the changing seasons. If we had not the general aim of seasonal reflection what on earth would we paint? We have had our say and a good go already at non-representaional work so the common journey from the figurative to the abstract which nestan alla painters wrestle with would not eat at us, so what would one do? Portraits? Trees? Fruit? The seasonal theme, we must remember though, is there precisely to allow us to work on, without ever being troubled by the question of what to do and I still think that is a good thing, it's just the feeling of being behind and of lost possibility causes regret. .

Our runs of pear progress. The fruit is rotting but we'll stick with it for a while longer, we have little choice. 

Had a look at an old contemporary art theory book; Data Browser Curating Immateriality. Such hope, such potential, such certainty. Every randomly selected page told a story of an old world, a more naive innocent time prior to the post truth era. Do not misunderstand me, this volume is full of hard thought and Done ideas and works which are to be held in high esteem but it's just that reading it now it demonstrates how quickly the creative emancipatory potential of the internet morphed into a horror of commercial surveillance and hateful provocation. I wonder what the clever clogs who were Curating Immateriality are doing now?  I know that poor Armin Medosch1 felt the weight of corporate takeover of the once free web.

The fields at Norrby have had the second plough run over them and are looking positively delicious. Whenever we regain the strength for work it has to be a soil.

​

A handshake,

​

John

​

1 Influential new media theorist and activist.

 

​

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​