A drawing by David Shrigley

I’ve become more and more interested in the way I am enslaved by any serialized project, by a derivative idea that manipulates me in order to complete itself. It makes me think of myself as merely a colony of isolated members, where there is no real ‘me’ but an illusion of ‘me’. Do I really have a need of using those cultural vehicles? Is it just a way of delayed neurosis? Has it something to do with prestige? Maybe a narcotic? Well… I think that the methodology of working with series has something to do with a kind of parasite slavery, and maybe a way to escape from this situation is studying a subject until you could explain it to an alien intelligence (or better, to a machine: in some years time you could do that, that’s for sure). At this point, not being a person interested in accumulation or even authorship, I’d rather jump to another subject in the chain of evolutionary nonsense.

The “Technocrat” installation by Atelier Van Lieshout

Perhaps I should do something more specific about this idea…