UNINHIBITED DISCOURSE PROJECT unmapped directions

About the Project

The Uninhibited Discourse Project is an experiment to emphasize the value of intellectual discussion. It is meant to move the minds of those involved in unmapped directions, testing the territory of different systems of thought. The discussion is meant to be raw, a volleying of unrefined dialogue that keeps a cohesive quality while drawing from a pool of encountered art, writing, images, music and events. We simply want to guide our thoughts down a collaborative path to better break down concepts that lie in familiar as well as foreign realms. Collaboration is key to compromise and understanding.

This side of the blue

And the signifieds butt heads with the signifiers
And we all fall down slack-jawed to marvel at words
When across the sky sheet the impossible birds
In a steady illiterate movement homewards

And gabriel stands beneath forest and moon
See them rattle and boo, and see them shake, and see them loom
See him fashion a cap from a page of camus
And see him navigate deftly this side of the blue

And the rest of our lives will the moments accrue
When the shape of their goneness will flare up anew
Then we do what we have to do(-re-loo-re-loo)
Which is all that you can do on this side of the blue

Joanna Newsome is one of my favorite musicians and only a gentle soul such as her could give us such a beautifully gift wrapped contradiction. Us humans negate our meanings over and over, and wear what’s left of personal philosophy on our heads as a hat. Meanwhile, those birds fly homewards.

long lost friend

I received this email from a long lost friend who I haven’t seen in over half a decade.

Hey Mason.
This is dear old E.J.
I am a single quarter of school from my AA in visual arts.
I am hopped right now, but right in mind.
I am glad to see you’ve gotten into design, and my god CAMUS.
I love him too.
I have decided to become an artist.
Painting and Drawing.
New medias are interesting, but they lack the visceral feedback that I need.
I would like to discuss CAMUS with you.
I have a girlfriend that I love dearly.
And yes.
On purpose I am adopting arcane and/or archaic mannerisms.
Oh deary!
You are a man of the world!
How much you’ve grown!
I wanted to make this interesting for you to read.
Words are fun too.
Most of all I like to scrape.
I am rather confused though.
I keep reading and reading.
Oh Well!
I await your response.
Sincerely E.J.

Oh dear E.J,
My long lost friend,
Like a brother kept miles apart,
but close in heart and never forgone,
How glad I am to be less alone!

For us who feel the weight,
Camus is our personal god,
Not a savior but a gentle a soul,
Our hopelessness binds us together!

Collateral Damage

Response to "Collateral Damage"

Davey Gilles inspired by the tradition of Volkous, Kline, Burroughs and the other abstract expressionists, works to create something spontaneous and authentic. What is interesting to me about this series of work is the distance created between the art and the artist. Although Gilles is cranking out these paintings quickly, he is still conscious of his hand and the brush. Each painting could stand on it’s own, and each is properly a finished work of art. However, he later abandons the work by stacking them into the towers above. The paintings cease to be and the original thought that went into the work is forgotten – only the unplanned areas of the borders, where the paint has accidentally spilled over, is exposed. Even the original form of the work is transfigured. The towers stand somewhere in-between painting and sculpture. The artist though, stands out of sight, as the final creation is not his. He is separated and takes no responsibility for final product. Albert Camus once said, “The divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity.” and in this sense, the work is absurd – it’s meaning absent, irreducible, and spontaneous.

The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

From my mother’s sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flack and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

Jolting, right? This is a poem by Randall Jarrell, triggered by his experiences while serving in the Vietnam War. There’s so much that could be said. The images jump erratically from one to the next, from comfort to terror. The soldier — as well as the reader — gets plunged into uncertainty. As far as the purpose is concerned, apathy resonates throughout. Does the the individual soldier’s life matter, or is he simply a mess to be cleaned up?

Alone.

More and more, each day I see this as true and truer.

Even in solitude, this is happening somewhere in the world

absence of omniscience?

Crash at Cadillac Ranch

Profoundly Deaf Percussionist Improvisation

Daniel Richter, amazing contemporary artist

When I was in Denver building the website for my grandparent’s winery, my dad and I went to the museum to see a show by Daniel Richter, who we both consider to be one of the best contemporary painters. The show, which was packed full of gigantic paintings, was awe inspiring. I rather experience that again than visit any museum in the world, no contest.

Sharp lines make no sense.

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