…the beauty of this art is also the beauty of our minds and the myriad ways that pattern and concept so sweetly, seductively deceive us all.
How easily our eyes, our minds, are fooled and how fast an impulse is invoked by the simplest of strokes and a surrender to sweet and wilful projection. We learn to see in those ways that most efficiently reproduce themselves through us; beyond simple animal bias towards desire and manifest self-replication, it is the literally viral in art, the genetic threads and grammatical taxonomies of style and idiom themselves that we find here, endlessly seeking their own replication through our own narcotic self-obsession.
Our joy, our fascination at this illusion lies in the many ways we have been made and cultivated by interdimensional oceans of self-propagating, representational encoding, psychological encryption or pattern in, and as, symmetry and information. We have long mistaken ourselves as lead actors but time and again we are swept away by passions invoked – not by what exists – but by what is merely implied. We are for this reason the mere bit-players in a neurochemical kaleidoscope our own anthropocene drama, as easily swayed and persuaded and whisked away by the brightly coloured blocks of body and bulbous form as of alluring tittilation in ideology or politics. It is the median emptiness and flowing curvature of a patterned language of behaviour and thought that inhabits us much more than we could ever be said to inhabit it.
Desire deceives us all and makes it’s little nests and happy families of fantasy and belief right there in our heads, like living abstractions that no one owns but which – in truth – own us all.