I began by making a straight line from left to right using a soft lead pencil. Fast. Immediate. I’m repeating the gesture over and over, bringing together two surfaces. I hear the sound of the pencil drag along and fall off the edge of the paper. I think, patchiness, resistance. Muscles. Fibre. The more lines…conductance. Mobility. Plasticity. Variability is inevitable. Translation. This is yet another beginning.
Do I write about what I see myself doing? About deciding. Or not deciding. Do I write about the ideas that come to mind while in the moment?
I’m reflecting on the speculative aesthetics and experimental aesthetics. A distinction between two. One is associated with philosophy and the other with science. They seem to need each other. Moving from left to right, I gesture on the page as if I’m writing. But there are no words on this paper; there are only the semblance of words. I trace over the first line of marks and in the process notice the confidence of the first marks. There was nothing to follow…they were the first. I repeat the pattern and I’m confronted with a choice. Do I draw slowly and try to trace as close as I’m able over the first lines or, do I let go, draw faster and allow my arm to mark the adjacent territory? To trace the gist? Today, I’ve chosen the latter. Either way, there’s noise. After multiple tracings, the detail of the first markings gradually become submerged. New forms intermingle and become. Feedback: Uncertainty decreases with perception.