Hey you, yes you, in your BBQ/BEER/FREEDOM shirt, with your mask under your mouth, screaming at the world from my Twitter feed, I have created you to object to whatever is happening here at an unfinished exhibition.
If everything turns out well (Hope is the Rarest Bird). Still if everything does turn out well, if Minus Plato’s four-year anti-Trump (not so very whispering) helped at all, I lay myself open to some minor praise (this heart is not encrusted with frost).
But I’m writing this real-time back and forth of words (and future sketches) is not there for your applause or Likes. With what’s unfurling before our gluey eyes on the boob-tube (who’s in the mood to OBEY?), we need to give Likes a thorough shake out.
Look, as a placeholder on my desk, there’s a member of Pope. L’s Black Factory, drunk on MoMA retrospective fame, whispering hope’s smoke from a briefcase.
Or scribbled from a citrus couch, displayed on the Neue Galerie wall and photographed in a blur are Ashley Hans Scheirl’s gloriously restrained TV Drawings (1980-81)
Five minutes from the Nevada announcement – will this be it? Fat chance – I whisper it here that an unfinished exhibition always belongs to the artists and to their truths (not mine). Can your white ears hear the pant: “I love truth. Tell me the truth about me! Baldy, half-dabbler. Your water-bag sticks out a pendulous half-yard!” You obese turtle on your back flailing!
Update – Friday November 6th, 2:56pm EST
While Nevada was snoozing, Pennsylvania looks likely to be the first past the post. While we are not there yet, I have been having some second thoughts on closure as we move from ‘under Trump’ to ‘after Trump’, with its attendant Trumpism (In US who hasn’t…).
To be continued (on and on)…
[‘Paused Life TV Dinner Drawing’ is an extract from Chapter 2: ECHOES of the ongoing online project Like Wind on Rushes which drafts a book to come called Whisper into a Hole.]