As I mentioned previously the Refined Quotes blog got to a place of a stagnation. Of course there are new meterial, new visits and new followers. Yet it all became too routine. It was meant to be a hunt for new ideas , however the creativity deminished slowly but steadily. In the end I’m only happy with the content and form of the ‘about’ page, which is also a manifesto that I try to follow.
The beginning of this year was great, people started comming in, I’ve added the paintings, movie frames and later the songs. Eventually I got to a point where there was a standard alogrithm for me to use, with better or worse results in attention catching, nevertheless it became an effort, a fixed procedure. The very thing hated so much by people like Burroughs or Wallace, who I openly admire from post to post.
See? Mr. Burroughs is dismayed.
<read on for all the cool stuff!->
It was something like that Daft Punk song, repetition, repetition and even more repetition. Although I really like it and I prise the circular pattern as its very essence it has to end at some point. Bottom line is this: great stuff, but you know, only from time to time. It’s 4 minutes and you have to move on to something else.
So let’s move on. Let’s shake things up. Over the time the blog came to be a little datebase of qoutes. Around the world. Around the world of literature, and art that is a good discription too. The conclusion is simple: repetition works as a form very well, only temporarly thought. What the next stage should be remains to be the question. But oh, wait, I see someone up there, in the thick mist. Who is that? A human being. Hey you! out there on the tracks…
Maybe he wants to tell us that the right thing to do is to rediscover the human traits? To break the formal wall? The plan is this: let’s chose some quotes, some frames and paintings, mix them all together in a one particual place, in one text, in a one blogpost, then add some narration, some personal thoughts, a sign of individualism. Finally, let’s look for interpretations, relations, for feelings.
Before, my job was only to cut things out of context. Now, there is a need for the new context as well and I suppose this should be the direction to take. A new form, a free, loose form. Goodbye to an obvious list of quotes, which is practised on so many blogs, websites. This place needs a lot more life. To keep with the Daft Punk theme, I’d like point out that their album titles are interesting in this line of thought. Discovery (see above) leads up to Human after all. This is preciselsy what we are going to imitate here, only imitate not being the best word to use. Anyway.
What he loved in horses was what he loved in men, the blood and the heat of
the blood that ran them. All his reverence and all his fondness and all the leanings
of his life were for the ardenthearted and they would always be so and never be
C. McCarthy – All the Pretty Horses
Yep, the quotes will remain to be the base, the foundation, this time though, they will be asimilated into the text. And so will be verious links. See tumblr for loose quotes in any case. Now at this point we are closer to blood and heat, to real living things. And as McCarthy puts so much emphasis on certainity the there will be no change of heart in his character, this is again all too human. He expresses an emotional trust in the future self and the future state of mind.
Galloping on a strong, pretty horse, down south, near the mexican border, we leave behind the setting sun and the technological trap of posthumanistic creatures that repeat information without error. Creatures that if you had hurt them they would shed not a single tear nor a drop of blood. We leave this behind, sligthly uneasy about it. No helmets.
There is an interesting thing about writing and time. The chronology of imagination has its own rules. We might later ask Proust for his opinions on this topic. He seems to excel in it. What I want to show you is this. In the story, or this shakey construction whatever it is, you are now speeding thoughtlessly on a horse’s back. It might be a well-bred animal borrowed from McCarthy’s vision or it might be something else completely. You might realise that you are riding a horse which you haven’t even visioned yet. It is just a possibility that you are on a horse without having any idea about him. If that’s the case let’s try to fix it quickly. Feel free to try and tame those wild beasts.
* Basuki Abdullah – Horses *
No succes with those? I would imagine so. People get killed often enough by such fighters. Let’s go for something easier, at least for now. Some more, say, ephemeral creatures.
*Robert Goodnough – Horses III *
Wait, what? What the hell is that?
I don’t see a problem, just pick any of them. They seem a bit, hm, entangled but it’s no obstacle for a capable mind. Ride one of these, froget realism, forget the distinctive lines. Imagine how they feel, imagine how people would react. How McCarthy’s characters would react? Could those horses fly? How fast are they on the road?
Ok, let’s not get carried away on the first trip. Daft Punk are waiting for as in the club, looking proud of themselves. I think they also did some rethinking. The most robotic band out there returned with a new album that is made with live instruments and a long list of actual collaborators. There is abundant human touch all around. Even as deep as a personal, inspiring story by Giorgio Moroder put right into a rich, vibrating track. At the same time Pitchfork made a stunning visual expirience of a dull article on them, which is worth seeing (in context of the form problem). (here)
Back to the titles. Random. Access. Memory. Random for experimental, not defined by form. Access for being intersubjective, able to connect with another human with or without the help of technology. Memory is the whole, infinte (like a Broges library), culture consisting of books, quotes, movies, lines, words, sentences and pictures. Imagine Borges, Daft Punk, Burroughs and McCarthy at one table. Or on the floor in a giant cave for that matter!
They’d find a way to communicate. That’s art.
Rooftops dance in the morning.
T. Pynchon – Gravity’s Rainbow
What you rather escape realism or escape form?
Is boredom of any value in art?
Have you ever had contact with a horse? Or a any famous southern author?
Would you prefer to fly?