October 22, 2005


Moving around rhizome, I had a difficult time getting actually engrossed in the site. It all feels, somehow, disconnected from life, or rather, disconnected from usefulness. It is not that I believe that art has to have a purpose, but this art leaves me rather c-o-l-d. It does not elicit any sort of response or interest. is it because it is on the computer and i am sitting here alone in my office? do I want art to be more connected to life? I am left wondering, what exactly is the purpose of this art? It feels more like fancy exercise than fluid dancing; stairmaster vs. tango.

Until high-speed is less-expensive, I'm going to have dial-up from home, so many of the sites features, like Shadows Out of Time, are going to take quite a bit of time to view from my home connection, which is where I usually am.

This may well sound like a repetitive and self-imposed gripe, but it feels like a silent playground for the artistic techies. I like art to have gobs of paint, smells, textures, organic mobility outside of the screen. brrr. cold.

Lately, I've been nearly collapsing under the weight of minutiae that fields of study can produce. It's interesting how the obsession with getting published has created this monster of text production and over-convolution of the subject matter They're like mutant cells, rapidly self-generating and perpetuating themselves. Is Rhizome another growth of this nature?

I wholly support networks of like-minded and/or free-thinking people, but I'm starting to lose any sort of grasp on the world beyond academia and intellectualism. Rather than art for art's sake, it seems more like intellectualism for intellectualism's sake. While modernists may have been of a binary mind, post-modernists seemed to be suspended mid-air in a long silent leap, springboarding away from the past, but into what?

So many isms. I'm a realist? and a humanist? and an individualist? and a transcendentalist? and a ... Can you really define this in isms? Can an ism retain any warmth from the breath of life within us? Maybe I will just go back to my woods, and dodder by the stream, writing romantic poetry that sympathizes with the confused cynics of our time. Maybe.

I've gone back to peruse Rhizome three or four times. Maybe next week Rhizome will look totally different to me. or maybe not. Posted by wood0072 at October 22, 2005 10:58 AM