“The more color in the bedsheets, the greater impulse for her to roll around in them. A party would be thrown, she decided, the kind that would tell a small story in the contents of the dustpan the next morning. Detached sequins and mint leaves muddled by high heels, akward tales mixed in with a few shards of broken glass, a crust of bread. She rolled in her coloured sheets until they wrapped around her like a storm, and she fell asleep in the eye of it.”
Amelia Gray: AM/PM
The dreamed up object disappears in front of her eyes, it escapes from her and she can never capture it. It is disappearing from sight, and when she finally manages to capture the object she wants, in her hands, it suddenly changes into nothing. When she gets what she wants, the desire changes into disappointment and then disgust. (It's the kind of girl who climbs on the tallest tree and yells to get her down. But when she does get up there, she'll also jump down as soon as someone brings her ladder.)
There is nothing to talk about, but there is a lot to show off. She had once dreamed of the conversation between "deaf and mute". She walks through the gallery and feels like she is wandering through other people's fantasies, she is getting lost in their minds. She should be careful what she's dreaming about. One day, this dream can be put together, built, painted by someone else. The dream can then get stuck on this side of the world, and then it takes longer to break it down than to get rid of the idea at the first place.
*** Studio exhibition as a search for narration, wandering, and stabilizing the meaning that escapes. The effort to find peace in the leeward of the gallery is distorted by the heartbeat - by the weight of the exhibition and educational institutions, they rub themselves with personal taste, attitude, testimonies and imaginations of the artists. The stories and dreams stay with us, being born in the room, in the atelier.
Has the event already happened, or is it going to happen? And is it really happening, or is it just a delusion like dreaming of the consequences of a wild party? It is possible to tell something other than just an individual fictitious story and observe the fiction of curating the exhibition of a painting studio. When we approach a dreamlike object such as art, painting, an exhibition, it seems to us that it is constantly escaping and becoming design, a commodity, a wild party, or just a social event. Movement presently does not mean merely acquiring analytical tools, but the challenge to take on a disguise that hides and reveals at the same time, just like the glamorous self-confidence of the joker, the only one under the mask to tell the truth. We create our image in relation to the subject of our desire, we make our art out of hybrid pieces that we choose from the offer of globalized culture. Top taste is sometimes a distaste.
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