The Art of Minimalism

The thing I'd like to say about Minimalism is that
it has nothing to do with the quantity of Forms
and everything to do with the space of Conveyance

To get there we have to talk about Art:

Art is centered on the Art Object

It is through the Art Object
that we have any concept of Art at all
which is to say,
Art is the coming-into-being of the Art Object

Due to our Subjectivity
(ourselves as Subject in Relation to the Object)
being mediated by our Consciousness
(our consciousness as the Relation between
Subject and Object)
the Art Object
comes into being
for each Subject
entirely aside from its being in Totality

So,
Art is the coming-into-being of the Art Object
within the Totality
wherein
each Subject, in engaging the Art Object,
subsequently brings the Art Object into being
marked by the consciousness of the Subject

As the marked coming-into-being of the Object
is the Object mediated by consciousness
The marked Object
in the conscious engagement of the Subject
proxies for the Object as it exists in the Totality

In this way
the Subject is barred from perceiving
the Object in Totality
and thereby
Totality itself

For each Subject
their marking of the Art Object
functions as
the coming-into-being of the Art Object

In turn,
these individual markings
are subsumed in the Totality
within which they exist

The Art Object in Totality
subsumes
all markings done thereto

The Art Object in Totality
is the Art Object engaged

In this way,
The Art Object reflects its being in the Totality
and
the Subjective engagement with the Art Object
likewise reflects its being in the Totality
so
the Subjective engagement with the Art Object
reflects the Totality
in revealing the Subject's marking of the Art Object

The revealing of the Subject's marking of the Art Object
is the reflection of the Subject in Totality

The Subject is subsumed in the Totality
for the Totality is, in being Total, all-inclusive
and thereby,
reflects both the Subject and not the Subject
or
the Subject's being and not-being

The Subject then
in engaging Art
engages itself and its negation
and the negation
negates
the Subject is annihilated

Art is the annihilation of the Subject
by the nature of its being
a reflection of the Totality

Intro to Minimalism

We've got to get a few things straight
about Art
before we dive head first into this thing

The concept of Art is an entirely human construct
which means
that all the meaning of Art is imposed from outside
by us incorporating that concept into our being

There is, as you can see,
an internal/external dichotomy:
Art is imposed on an object
by the incorporation of Art into our being
both of which happen simultaneously
put forever in motion
by the first utterance of Art

The utterance is the coming-into-being of all things
so,
every utterance is a coming-into-being
within the history of all like utterances
while simultaneously
manifesting itself as an entirely singular utterance

The utterance exists
both within and without
the continuum
it is itself and not itself
all inclusive and entirely exclusive

All of which is mediated by the Art object
represented in the Textual Chain
as the Productive Object

The Object catalyzes the utterance

All utterance starts with the Subject

engaging the Productive Object

the utterance itself is an Imposition

of the Subject's Intent in uttering

on a Receptive Object

i.e. 

The spoken word

The Canvas 

The Marble

The Other

As the utterance is an Imposition

it can never be the Productive Object

only Signify it

In turn,

the manifestation of the utterance

in conveyance

takes the place of the Productive Object

within the Totality,

thus the Textual Chain reinitiates,

and

in conveyance of the utterance

the utterance replaces the Productive Object

within the Totality

simultaneously

Accordingly

the Subject/Object dichotomy

has become impossible to separate

Both function simultaneously

in engaging the utterance

As Art is no different than any other utterance

the Productive Object (Art Object)

catalyzes the engagement of all interested parties:

i.e.

"The utterance of Chair"

The Subject (Artist)

looks at a chair (The Productive Object)

(That chair is perceived via the utterance of chair

for

the knowing of Chair is the reception of its utterance)

he creates an utterance of that chair

on the Receptive Object (Canvas)

The utterance of Chair has reproduced itself 

via the Productive Object (the (C)hair)

The artist's utterance of Chair

is at once 

its own marked utterance of Chair

while concurrently 

absorbed in the Total utterance of Chair

(Chair's utterance within the Totality)

In Reception

the Totality engages the marked Chair

The marked Chair

is both

its own Productive Object

(The utterance of Chair)

and a reproduction of the Total utterance of Chair

In this way the Totality absorbs the marked Chair

The Productive object is visible only in the Totality

accordingly

All Subjects engage the Totality in utterance

conveying (as above) marked utterances

which are Received only via the Totality

That is to say,

All conveyance fails to communicate

the truth of the Productive Object

because of the Imposition of the Subject

In the Metaphysics of Text

Art exists in the Productive Process

which is 

the marked utterance of Chair

coming into being

within the Totality

(Remember the Totality is Subjectively Constructed)

and Go!

Homesickness

Its alright if you miss it
It really is
but its a whole other thing
to live for things
you're bound to miss

You can't focus on things
you're bound to miss
You can see traces of them
everywhere
It gets overwhelming
just looking anywhere at all

One day I'll rewrite Descarte's Meditations
One day it'll make sense enough to me
So that I'll rewrite Descarte's Meditations
One day they'll have to ask
if I rewrote it at all

Amplifier Unit

It’s always the Light
we say we see
in each other’s eyes
It’s always the Light
&

always the Silence
we say we feel
in each other’s lives
It’s always the Light
we see each other in
It’s always the Light

Some days I don’t feel like doing shit

not a goddamned thing
Some days it’s enough to just sit & listen to the Bum Nouveau
rant on the street behind my house
some days even that’s too much to handle
and I don’t feel like writing today
I’magoingtodo it whenever I damnwell feel like it
I’m exhausted
sleeping on a full head every night
and waking to carry it’s sloshing burden
makes a man question the strength of his neck & backbone,
stretch more, get the blood flowing, get up & get moving,
sure of the day that he’ll waste away anywhere he lands.

Sometimes I sleep & swear my sheets feel just like paper
I wake up and look for the microscopic cuts
I run my fingers over my arms, face, neck & wrists
I make the bed and run my fingertips across the sheets
& try to figure out
whether I’ve fooled myself again.

I can be lulled into submission
by a trombone and a lapsteel
like threads enhammocking my weary head
I think of all the faith I have in the world
I think of pictures of girls
looking like they really do
when the shape of their lip
ceases to be a subject of expression
& suddenly says everything that needs to be said
I think about boys with honest faces
& wonder what they look like
as a whole
as in
what only the honesty looks like
all by itself.

A tattoo swallow’s under-belly red library

One day I hope to have a house
and in it, a library.
It doesn’t have to be very large
but a proper room with a window and door
and a different feeling than the rest of the house.
A sacred place.
The books in dark brown bookcases
all awash in red in the glaring daylight,
their covers indistinguishable.
But at night, by a small standing lamp,
the shutters are drawn
and the red swells like a heart
and the books like illuminated manuscripts,
will transcend the need of their reading.

It’s strange to look for comfort in cramped spaces.
I’m waiting for the rains to crash against my windows
like waves against the rocks.



Art by Mark Rothko

Halcyon

Close up of Herbert James Draper's Halcyon.